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How important are family units to Meyer’s Parrots in the wild

by Steve Boyes

Very, and may be the mechanisms central to maintaining their social structure. Let's see...

Over the past two weeks I have been going through my Meyer’s Parrot flocking and roosting behaviour data sets for 2004-2007 in the Okavango Delta, Botswana, as part of my thesis write-up. I have found this investigation to be an interesting journey into the possible ways in which these parrots could think about and perceive their natural environment. It is clear that they can navigate by the fact that during the breeding season males range far and wide in search of larval tree parasites, flying over floodplains, umpteen forest galleries, grasslands, winding channels, and papyrus swamp, and yet manage to find one hole in one specific tree in a forest of many trees. The biggest hill you can expect to find in the Okavango Delta is 2m, and therefore, from the air there are no reference points, beyond termite mounds and dead trees, a perfectly flat blue and green mosaic from the air. From top to bottom, the Okavango Delta is approximately 250 kilometres long, over which distance there is only a 60m change in altitude. Meyer’s Parrots navigate effectively through this mosaic, and are therefore, likely familiar with the spatial distribution of food resources in their established feeding territory.


Photo of study area – Vundumtiki Paradise

In summer, the Meyer’s Parrots utilize primary communal roosts, usually containing 6 – 10 parrots. These parrots leave the roost about one hour after sunrise to catch the warm morning sunshine. They sun themselves for 30 minutes, maintaining pairs or small groups, likely family units, of three or four. These sub-units then disperse into a patchwork mosaic of eleven different forest habitat types. During the mid-morning the Meyer’s Parrot undertake most of their feeding, and as the morning progresses begin to aggregate through lingual feeding. Lingual feeding can be obligate or facultative, but involves constantly vocalizing during feeding activity. Meyer’s Parrots are obligate lingual feeders, and based on mobility they have a high probability of encountering or hearing each other. By midday small groups of between three and six have come together to utilize secondary communal roosts. These small roosting flocks then disperse for feeding in the mid-afternoon, again aggregating towards the end of the day to form activity centres adjacent to roost trees. At activity centres the parrots preen and allo-preen within their family units or pairs exclusively. Towards sunset they vocalize synchronously and assemble in a neat row in the crook of Leadwood or African Mangostene. In winter, most Meyer’s Parrots use nest cavities and natural hollows to roost, but this also the breeding season, during which approximately half of the population engage in the breeding effort.

Central to my study was to more fully understand the mechanisms behind flocking and roosting. Why Meyer’s Parrots fly long distances and use complex vocalizations to aggregate and roost at a seemingly central point? What are the primary benefits? When and why do Meyer’s Parrots flock on certain food items? Some researchers put forward that species that utilize communal roosts are likely doing so to benefit from information sharing about food resources during periods of resource scarcity. Reduced risk of predation by improving detection of predators and diluting risk of capture are simply byproducts of this information-sharing. My study and several others on African and Australian parrots suggest, however, that these parrots don’t use communal roosts as information centres, but rather use them to facilitate dispersal from a central point. My study also shows that this central point is constantly moving according to shifts in food resource abundance and distribution. Therefore, in order to stay with the roosting community Meyer’s parrots have to repeat the daily activity cycle described above throughout summer. As indicated previously, family units of the breeding pair and one or two of their progeny have been observed together for up to a year, until the breeding pair nests again. Over this period is it not feasible that the offspring, while foraging with the parents, learn the lay of the land, and thus where all the seasonal food resources can be found, and all the tricks they will need to know to be effective in this, their natural habitat. For example, fledglings from the previous breeding season have been observed to assist in provisioning the female during the egg-laying period. The male likely uses this period to teach his offspring where to find and how to utilize larval tree parasites that are keystone in the breeding effort. After this period, these sub-adults are chased away from the nest cavity. I would like to put forward that Meyer’s Parrot communal roosts are central to the social and spatial organization of Meyer’s Parrot populations, resulting in a cellular population structure with lots of overlap between feeding territories. This structure has distinct social and cultural benefits, adapting the members of a roost to the specific requirements of the area within which they forage. The maintenance of genetic diversity is likely facilitated by extra-pair copulations and high mortality.

To what extent is information shared at the communal roost? I don’t know, but it is probably communicated passively, whereby the roost subtly moves to the area with the highest food resource abundance, established by aggregation during the day through lingual feeding. Basically, the location of the communal roost is constantly moving towards food resources. In my study Meyer’s Parrots used a specific communal roost for no more than a few days before it had to move. Similar to musical chairs, throughout the day the parrots wander in search of food, aggregate somewhat by midday and then as the sun sets rush to find a new or established communal roost site. They are not too selective, as all they require is the crook in large closed canopy of an African Magostene, African Ebony, Mopane, Knobthorn or Leadwood tree. All of these are in abundance, and thus, again, the most important unit the family or community associations. Roosting flocks were seldom larger than 12 parrots, and thus could very well be several generations. Another indicator of inter-generational continuity is the evident use of certain nest cavities for over one hundred years. This was determined by assessing the age of dead Leadwood tree in which the Meyer’s Parrots were nesting. One of these nest cavities was in a petrified Leadwood tree, but at the entrance there was evidence of excavation characteristic of Meyer’s Parrots (i.e. lines radiating from the entrance hole). These excavations had to have taken place prior to petrification. In addition, the lower lip of the entrance has been smoothed by generations of parrots entering the nest cavity.

For more information regarding these findings and other from the Meyer’s Parrot Project in the Okavango Delta, Botswana, please contact Steve Boyes at .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address). I also have .pdf’s of the nine magazine articles that I have published on the project. Peer-reviewed scientific papers will become available later in the year, after the completion of my PhD thesis. If you would like to contribute towards the project please use the following link to donate through the World Parrot Trust – just scroll down to Meyer’s Parrot.

To donate from the US: click here >>
To donate from anywhere else: click here >>

This something I have been meaning to share, but seemed to slip through the works. This is a photo of that glorious moment from for any parrot researcher, the first flight from the nest cavity, the moment of fledging!


Photo of parrot fledging at Vundumtiki, Okavango Delta, Botswana

Posted by Steve Boyes on 04/25 at 01:16 AM
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Field trip to southern Mozambique in search of the Brown-headed Parrot

by Steve Boyes

In 1998, Dr. Stuart Taylor conducted a comprehensive study of the ecology and vocalizations of the Brown-headed Parrot Poicephalus cryptoxanthus at Ponta Malongane, southern Mozambique. At that time the population was healthy, in spite of the civil war that was just ending. I have just recently returned from a 10 day trip through southern Mozambique, looking for, what turned out to be, non-existent parrots. With no sightings or calls I turned to interviewing the local community at Ponta Malongane, but very few people has seen the parrots for at least three years. They did, however, report that the parrots were caught for food and sale to tourists. This was done predominantly at the nest, but there was also a story of line snares made of fishing line put near water points where the parrots were known to drink. I am currently networking with conservationists further north to ascertain the status of the Brown-headed Parrot north of Maputo. It seems that the Brown-headed Parrot has experienced massive range reduction over the past ten years, and its status in Mozambique needs to be re-evaluated. African parrot metapopulation sources are often located in remote areas, in which local and international NGO’s, conservation authorities, researchers, and ornithologists cannot easily assess their population status. Many of these species are heavily traded. For example, the Senegal Parrot Poicephalus senegalus is the most traded bird on CITES Appendix II. Trade in African Grey Parrots out of central and western Africa is consistently in the news, but these busts are a fraction of the unsustainable trade in the species. We need to get to these countries, invest time researching these far away populations. As soon as a researcher comes into an area and invests his or her life in the conservation of a parrot, this suddenly elevates the status of this species in the eyes of the local community. This apparently successful and important individual cares enough to commit his time to this parrot. This parrot must be important…we should be proud! Researchers do make a difference and we need to ensure that society supports them wherever possible.

Posted by Steve Boyes on 04/01 at 02:34 AM
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Meyer’s Parrot Project update

by Steve Boyes

Well, I must apologize for the long delay before this 2nd posting, but to excuse myself I have been completely engrossed in my PhD Zoology write-up on the Meyer's Parrot in the Okavango Delta, travel and work on the wild bird trade. This has kept me moving and, if not moving, writing madly. I am currently busy with their feeding ecology, processing 36 months of data from two sites in the Okavango Delta on their feeding behaviour, habitat preferences, food item preference systems, etc., etc.

It has been an amazing journey getting to this point, and even though I was dreading write-up, it turns out I am really enjoying it! The strong results and hours and hours of pouring over spreadsheets, photos, samples, documents and .pdf's have awakened surprising and exciting insight into the ecology of the Meyer's Parrot in the wild. It really is quite something when you commit yourself to getting to know one species over a long period of time. A familiarity begins to grow in you that blossoms into the passion you so often see in field researchers. A passion that often has them travelling the world as ambassadors for their respective species. It is like making a new best friend, one that you know and trust. Now, having been in Pietermaritzburg, South Africa, for seven months writing-up I can't wait to go back to the bush and share some time with an olf friend in the wilderness. So many days together at the nest and walking on Elephant trails in the delta.

We have 4 pairs of Meyer's Parrots here at the university, but I don't visit them as much as I should, as when I do, I see the same basic character as the parrots in the wild, but with these pairs seem to be constantly on edge or panicked. No matter how long I spend with them, they just never seem to settle enough to behave naturally. The problem with these parrots is not simply that they are in captivity, but rather that they do not get enough attention and stimulation, and two of the pairs come from the wild. Once parrots have learnt the complexities of a life in the wild, they will never be able to settle into captivity, as we could never stimulate their established behavioural patterns with toys, food or even attention. However, captive-bred parrots, if treated properly, are generally intelligent, balanced and stimulating companions. Companions that live for a long time and can provide companionship in times of need. The continued trade in wild-caught birds is now beyond justification. These realizations motivate me to continue my work, with the World Parrot Trust, on getting the wild-caught bird trade in South Africa banned. The global avicultural industry is now ready to take over the responsibility of supply the pet bird trade.

"We need to support policies that help birds and mankind live together, both in the wild and in at home"

Again, I apologise and will from now on endeavour to write bi-weekly on developments in my write-up, the wild bird trade in South Africa and the future of the Meyer's Parrot Project.

Posted by Steve Boyes on 03/05 at 12:43 AM
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MEYER’S PARROT PROJECT - INTRODUCING THE OKAVANGO DELTA

by Steve Boyes

First entry on the work done in the Meyer's Parrot Project and the study site for the project, the Okavango Delta (Botswana).

In January 2004, the Meyer’s Parrot Project was initiated by the Research Centre for African Parrot Conservation to facilitate learning and discovery about this previously unstudied, but topical and important transcontinental African parrot species in the wild. Three years later in January 2007 we set up our first independent research camp, thus allowing us to accommodate volunteers and dedicate every waking moment to parrot research. This field season was made possible by funding from the British Ecological Society and several private donors in the United States. On 5th February the camp was christened “Vundumtiki Parrot Camp”. “Vundumtiki” means “one small fish” – a phrase taken from a Bayei folklore story of the island. Vundumtiki Island is located on the Maunachira Channel in the north-eastern Okavango Delta in the Kwedi Concession (NG22/23). This is one of the remotest locations in the Okavango Delta system, and is 3 hours from the closest airstrip and anything between 15 and 48 hours away from Maun, the closest town (300 kilometers away). For the intensive parrot work done between January and July during the primary breeding season we had between two and four volunteers at any one time in camp, and all had diverse life-changing experiences. For example, being charged by elephants, having lions eating a buffalo at a 10-hour observation site, and sharing a shower with the local leopard, were among their stories. Now to the parrots…

Of the 352 recognized parrot species in the world, very few have distributional ranges more extensive than the Meyer’s Parrot, extending the length of Africa from South Africa all the way up to the N. Sudan. Furthermore, the Meyer’s is the most common parrot in the atlas region and, importantly, no other species is geographically continuous with all the others. Work has been done on the endangered Cape Parrot, the threatened Ruppell’s Parrot, the Brown-headed Parrot, the African Grey, the little-known Yellow-faced Parrot, and several of the lovebirds. All of these projects were motivated according to threat status, answering questions as to why these species have limited distributions or are threatened. We saw the need to do work on the Meyer’s Parrot in order to answer questions in regard to why this parrot is so "successful" in the changing context on the African continent.

The Meyer’s Parrot was discovered by Rüppel in the Sudan in 1827, and later named by Cretzschmar in honor of Hofrat Dr. med. Bernhard Meyer (1767-1836), who practiced medicine in Germany and was a respected botanist and ornithologist. Since then man’s relationship with the Meyer’s has developed from one of co-existence and balance, to a complex interaction of threat and persecution, and love and stewardship. Due to population and agricultural encroachment in the last 150 years, the Meyer’s has been viewed as occasional crop pests, congregating on orange orchards and grain fields (e.g. sorghum and millet). This has been viewed as a nuisance and the parrots have been persecuted as a result. In the Northern Province, South Africa, where the Meyer’s became a large-scale pest on the orange orchards, they were combated so effectively that they are now a very rare sighting. The parrots have also been seen to congregate on grain fields around the Okavango Basin, where as a result they are caught in nylon snares and mist nets and clubbed to death. On the other hand, the species has become very popular with aviculturalists around the world. There are many breeders, especially across Europe and North America, who specialise in Poicephalus species and some will even attempt to maintain pure specimens of the different Meyer’s Parrot subspecies. The primary source for the parrots is live capture, as the Meyer’s does not breed well in captivity and breeders need parrots with a traceable lineage for their breeding programs. Increasing demand has resulted in relatively high exports of the bird to Europe and North America in the late 80’s and early 90’s. Significant numbers were traded from Tanzania, peaking at just under 12,000 in 1987, but declining to <1200 in 1990. The extent and effect of current trade levels and persecution of the Meyer’s Parrot throughout its range is currently unknown, but whether the relationship is love or hate both interactions result in capture or persecution in the wild.

It is our responsibility to manage this conflict to the advantage of both species, and the tools for this can only be acquired through dedicated research towards the development of a conservation plan and an immediate ban in the trade of wild African parrots.


In order to put my work on the Meyer’s Parrot into context I would like to introduce the Okavango Delta...

The Okavango River finds its source in the Angolan highlands on the Benguella Plateau, flowing down the Cuito and Cubango sub-catchments, into the Okavango River in the Caprivi Strip, into Botswana at Mohembo, down through the panhandle where it begins to spread out between two parallel fault lines, before spilling over the Gumare fault line into the Okavango Delta itself. The system is not so much a delta, but rather an alluvial fan in that instead of discharging into a body of water, the waters of the Okavango filter into or evaporate off the Kalahari Sand Basin.

The Okavango Delta is one of the last remaining pristine wilderness areas in Africa or the world for that matter, as for the most part the system has remained unmanaged, unfenced and free of human encroachment and permanent habitation. The first Bantu tribes were estimated to only enter the delta some 250 years ago, about 100 years before the first Europeans. Some areas on Chief Island have never experienced any kind of commercial or subsistence hunting activity. The delta is truly Africa’s wetland wilderness and provides a benchmark for future conservation and wildlife research.

The system includes 18000-square-kilometres of permanent swamp, floodplains, woodland, riverine forest, grassland, salt pans, islands, channels, and water. This patchwork mosaic of habitats and niches has provided for the rich diversity of plant (>1300), mammal (160), reptile (155), amphibian (35) and bird (>530) species within the system, making this the jewel of Botswana’s wildlife resource.

The Okavango Delta system functions like a living organism, regulating and maintaining itself, maturing and changing, while evolving with the unpredictability and creativity of a conscious being. When you open yourself to this you begin to see and appreciate that this place is heaving, beating, calling and celebrating life – an abundance of life and spontaneity. The complex scenes that we cannot fully comprehend, the sudden and coordinated arrival and departure of hundreds of pelicans on one day and their sudden departure the next, the synchronized arrival of migrant bird species after the first rain, the overnight birth of thousands of impala, the swirling, diving, thundering flocks of millions upon millions of quelea birds, and the violent thunderstorms in the afternoons. Central to our lives as modern society is the desire to control, and we have developed a long way towards achieving this in all aspects of our lives and surrounding environment. We exercise this in the natural worlds by putting up fences, hunting, removing, adding and changing the environment around us. In visiting wilderness areas, such as the Okavango Delta, we have opportunity to experience and observe life in a state and context we exert very little control over. Fundamental to this experience is the realization that these places are truly wild and untamed, perfect images of a wilderness before modern man. Not unlike the feelings of peace and heightened awareness we experience when staring up at the stars, looking thoughtfully into a fire, watching the waves roll in, and listening to the wind blow through a forest. These are all primal forces that are spontaneous and free, fundamental, and unchanged.

My time in the Okavango Delta has been a period of exponential growth both in regard to my understanding of natural systems and myself. The opportunity presented to me in moving there in 2003, was the gift of time in the wilderness and exposure to the immeasurable influence of the natural world on the human mind. There is something in the quiet appreciation of the natural rhythms that regulate and cleanse wilderness systems. The only word I have for the functioning of the system as a whole and the behaviour of the wildlife within it is, “honesty”, something that is in short supply in our modern society. There is no second-guessing the intentions or motives of an animal as you observe it surviving and interacting. There are no issues related to fairness or trust, all you have is an infinitely complex tapestry of family, life, death, creativity, colour and environment. A web of life we will never completely understand, and therefore, are naïve to think we could ever manage, manipulate or protect through intervention. Every action that we initiate within a wilderness system has a ripple effect into the future. Every action that we initiate takes something away from what is wilderness, takes something away from that which our souls need as a benchmark.. An experience in a wilderness area such as the Okavango Delta is not about seeing a lion, an elephant, a giraffe, a leopard, or a cheetah, it’s about those times you have on the mokoro, walking in the bush and spending time in silent meditation. These are your opportunities to experience true wilderness, to hear it around you, to see it, to feel it, and through this appreciate the magnitude and complexity of this tapestry. Walking quietly through the bush you begin to realise that the wilderness is alive below the grass, in the trees, in the air above you and in the wildlife you see around you. The only way in which I can relate this feeling of connectivity to something primordial to a person that has never been in a wilderness area is through the following analogy:

“When you are in your home, in that secure and safe corner at night, and the lights go out. You instantly feel uneasy, get pins and needles, and start looking around for a candle or a flashlight. That feeling of something lurking in the darkness, someone there, is the “wild”. It’s the wild saying, “I’m here, I’m still here”. No matter how much we become separated, I am still here, around you and within you”. For those brief moments in the darkness, all the fluff we surround ourselves with is gone. All the marketing, all the colours and noise, the television, the magazines, the objects and possessions, all our clutter is gone, giving what is wild a chance to speak to us. Time spent in the wilderness allows us to experience this energy in its purest form. An overwhelming feeling of fear, fascination and peace, and in the delta an opportunity to be completely overwhelmed by and immersed in a place not unlike what you would have found 30 000 years ago.”

Societies in the modern world have separated themselves from natural rhythms and the ebb of the universe through the use of human dates and memories to mark times for celebration and commemoration. Ancient Societies, such as the San, the Aborigine, and the Native Indians of the Americas, all celebrated according to the natural rhythms of the environment and cosmos. They used the rising of stars, the moon and the sun, the summer solstice, the winter equinox, the seasonal arrival and departure of wildlife, and the ripening of fruits, nuts and berries for collection. Through this synchronisation of society with natural rhythms these peoples not only felt a connection to the environment around them, but also associated the natural environment with their gods and ancestors. Respect for the environment was inevitable and an ecocentric ethic the norm. Today, we create artificial climates that remain unchanged, we live under lights for most of the day and night, and we do not look at the sky for the time anymore. As a result of this separation we have adopted a utilitarian environmental ethic, whereby trees are grown to be cut down, bird and animal species are shot because they are beautiful, and rhino are conserved because they are valuable. We must change.

Next week I will write on the 2007 field season…

Posted by Steve Boyes on 09/05 at 04:42 AM
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