Article 3 - "RE-CREATING EDEN" by Jessica Kuzmier August 2008 edition of First Church of The Streets

     The idea of visiting a tropical island conjures up images of paradise, where nature reigns and man seems like a visiting interloper. A desert that seems barren of life seems to reject mankind from even making his mark. The tropics, in true stereotype, seem to want to lure mankind into her warmth, however much she seems to reign supreme. Both terrains seem to be greater than homo sapiens, but as man has wended his way throughout the planet, he has become the mapmaker and the shapeshifter, trying to reform the planet in his image, whether tropical island, desert, forest, taiga, or tundra. In a world where news travels, man's mark upon the world has become all the more apparent.

     This interference has been caused by direct destruction, such as the well-known effects of slash and burn agriculture, as well as the rampant destruction of the rainforest. Whole species have been directly affected by humans. One of the best known and earliest examples of this effect was the dodo bird. By the end of the seventeenth century, the dodo bird had been rendered extinct. A flightless bird that resided in isolation on the island of Mauritius, the dodo knew no predators. That is, until man showed up to hunt it, and brought other predators such as pigs, cats and other animals which fed on the birds as well as its eggs. An isolated species, the dodo bird soon disappeared. Whether intentional through hunting, or accidental through introducing predators to an otherwise docile bird, man caused the destruction of this particular species.

     Consider the case of Guam, the tiny island territory isolated in the Western Pacific Ocean. Best known for its war games in the Spanish American War and the Second World War, in the 1960's, people seemed to notice something strange. The birds didn't seem to be singing as much as they had been. And it only got worse: by the 1980's, there were places that were completely devoid of birdsong. Something strange had happened to the birds of Guam, and it wasn't getting better. Like the dodo trapped on an island, many of Guam's birds seemed to be sealed to fate of extinction which they could not escape. While certain introduced birds such as doves and kingfishers seemed to remain stable in population, native species such as flycatchers and white-eyes were disappearing. Was man in some way responsible for this?

     Islands have a way of being a laboratory for wildlife. There is the theory that ecosystems are systematically being wiped out, albeit unintentionally, because of rampant industrialization that leaves species unable to migrate or move with the change in climate. When a terrain is an island in its own right, especially an isolated one such as Guam, a whole other system comes into play. Because it is hard for most species to get to the place, once they are there, it is difficult to migrate elsewhere. So processes can remain contained, not varying in movement as much as when there is a huge land mass to choose from. Life can become its own ecosystem, adapting to its own rhythm. Genetic pools are contained and adapt to a limited system.

     For example, neurologists found a phenomenon that appeared to be endemic to Guam itself. The condition known as "lytico-bodig" by the local Chamorros seemed to be a phenomenon that did not affect any other locale. "Lytico" resembled in many ways the progressive paralysis of ALS, while the symptoms of "bodig" mirrored a type of parkinsonism. The question for biologists and other medical practitioners became whether this was some genetic anomaly sent through the generations of a disintegrating culture, or something in the particular environment that affected the people of Guam and nowhere else. Was it something in their diet, perhaps the eating of cycad seeds that seemed to be prevalent amongst older generations? Or, through genetic selection, something that predisposed the native people of Guam to this condition more than anything else? Whatever it was, it was as though lytico-bodig had made its home here on the island, and the waters more or less kept it shipwrecked there.

     Edward O. Wilson, the noted biologist has cited in his The Diversity of Life that archipelagoes, being comparatively younger and more isolated than mainland terrain, are more likely to keep and show patterns. Put it another way, each island is its own miniature universe. A man may not be an island unto himself, but an island certainly is. And into this stable universe, the invasion of an unknown predator, is very much like Orson Welles announcing the War of the Worlds and inviting panic among the radio-listening masses. An invasive species introduced into this static an environment is very much this kind of predator. The native species has no idea what to do with it. The brown tree snake paying a visit to Guam was very much this kind of space invader, in the literal and alien figurative sense.

     The native birds of Guam, like other species on the island, adapted to its own environment over the eons, learning what was a predator to avoid and what was prey. What nearly did them in had nothing to do with overhunting, or even habitat destruction, though the American military did periodically raze some of their habitat for military projects. The near destruction of the Guam's native birds was as incidental as what caused the Black Plague that decimated Europe's human population in the fourteenth century and the zebra mussel entering the waters of the North American Great Lakes. Like its fellow stowaways the rat and the zebra mussel, the brown snake hitched a ride on military vessels starting in the nineteen sixties. This introduction of an exotic species to a species not habituated toward it was what nearly did in the birds in.

     This, of course, had not been the first time that Guam had been visited, and in some cases, invaded by an exotic species. The most obvious of these species was man himself. The first group of humans that are believed to have set foot on the island of Guam are the Chamorros, one of the ethnic Polynesian groups known to have emigrated from southeast Asia around four thousand years ago. They created a culture on what later became known as Guam that included trade, extensive fishing and transportation through kayaks. Masonry and quarrying were also part of the lifestyle, and the first humans began to convert the landscape through agriculture, stone mining, and felling trees for purposes such as creating boats for transportation. Theirs was a religion that was based on the worship of deceased kin, and was a belief system that fit them so well that later Spanish missionaries selling Jesus found it hard to procure buyers.

     Into this picture came the first Western influence, the second human wave and what would turn into a kind of Spanish invasion. This first impression of Guam by a Westerner was a lot left to be desired on his part. When Ferdinand Magellan found his way to the village of Umatac on March 6, 1521, he was greeted by quite a spectacle. Hordes of Chamorros sailing on praos-outrigger canoes fitted with sails of pandanus leaves-greeted the explorer, invited Magellan to their shores, jumped aboard his ship, and promptly helped themselves to anything that wasn't nailed down. Muskets chased them away, but didn't prevent Magellan from bestowing the ignomious name of "Las Islas Los Ladronas", or the "Islands of Thieves" on Guam and the neighboring islands.

     It wasn't until the Catholic missionaries began their sojourn on the islands that the chain was renamed the Marianas in honor of Maria Anna of Austria, the widow of King Philip IV and the benefactor of one of the Jesuit missions on the island. This missionary quest, bloody as it was, created a new invasion of the terrain, and the island remained in Spanish hands until 1898. And as the case goes with Western powers colonizing indigenous populations, the usual suspects of disease that accompanied the conqueror leveled the native population, a harbinger for what would take place later to the native birds of this island called Guam.

     The invasion subsequent to the Spanish was the beginning of its current status, that of American military concerns. As far off the beaten path as Guam is from the rest of the world and as Spain's neglect for her possessions grew, few ships came in to visit the tiny island, leaving it isolated from much of the modern world. So much so that when the American Captain Henry Glass sailed into the San Luis d'Apra Harbor during the Spanish-American War, expecting gunboats and warships, he was instead greeted by a nonmilitary ship bearing the port captain and the sole American on the island. Captain Glass had to inform these people that Spain and the U.S. were at war, something that Guam was woefully unprepared for if the naval captain was looking for a gunfight. Unceremoniously, Captain Glass declared these people prisoners of war and declared Guam as an American possession.

     This was what it was and had been, save for a time just after the United States entered hostilities with Japan in World War II until August 10, 1944. During this time, Japanese forces imposed their culture and way of life on the Chomorros, renaming the island Omiyajima, or Great Shrine Island. Schools were manned by Japanese administrators and teachers and taught a Japanese curriculum, churches were officiated by Japanese prisoners. Guamanians, by this time somewhat more mestizo in their population and outwardly very much wearing the Catholicism of its European conquerors, settled down to another invasion in which they were ill equipped to fight off themselves. Nonviolent resistance being their best weapon, they provided behind the scenes assistance to the American military during the 1944 defeat of Japanese forces, stemming from "W Day" to the actual retaking of the island sixteen days later.

     Once again, Guam was in American hands, and the military began beefing up the area as a warehouse for nuclear materiel and as a strategic Pacific post to keep an American eye on the Soviets during the Cold War. With the buildup of airplanes, the creation of Andersen Air Force Base with their B-52 with guided nuclear missiles, came the brown tree snake. Another invasion of Guam had begun, this one the sneakiest of all, for no one knew an attack was underway, perhaps least of all the snakes themselves. Another W Day intervention to save Guam was needed.

     In order to save the native birds of Guam, ironically the ecosystem had to be altered and man had to put his foot on it again. Those birds which were native were rounded up by biologists, and removed from their native ecosystem. From having the space invader of a snake move in, to experiencing the near decimation of the population, to now being removed from their home while the invader still remained, the native birds of Guam were having some time of it from the species that accidentally brought them to the brink. Perhaps the difference between the brown tree snake and the human that introduced them is that the humans were aware of the destruction and were trying to stop it from being total.

     The humans were attempting this triage through bagging the birds, sequestering them in zoos on the mainland so that the population could rise somewhat, and when they had enough birds, they would be released in the Marianas. First on nearby Rota, to see if the exercise was successful enough to cause generations of rebirth, without the hassle of the brown tree snake. Then if successful, the exercise would be carried out in Guam itself, replacing what once was there. This was a good thing to start, as the "exotic" brown tree snake found its way on planes to Hawaii. The snakes were caught in time, averting perhaps another apocalypse from transpiring in another paradise. But it only served to show how easy it was to introduce a parasite to a host population.

     Now that we know what exotics can do to a place, we are better informed to be able to do something about it. Those with island homes, such as Guam and Hawaii, have seemingly more to lose because there is only so much land that the native invaded species can run to. The phenomenon of zebra mussels in the Great Lakes only reflects the inverse of this reality: if a native species is dependent on the temperature and freshwater nature of the lake, it also can only go so far to run from an invasive species. Those who depend on the lakes for their livelihood and culture, as well as those who call an island home, are in a sense in a battle for their home. This is what has confronted the natives of Guam with the introduction of the brown tree snake into their domain.

     In 1991, the culmination of the zebra mussel and the brown tree snake came together. Senator John Glenn of Ohio introduced the Nonindigenous Aquatic Nuisance Prevention and Control Act to help combat the specter of zebra mussels overriding the Great Lakes. Congressman Daniel Akaka of Hawaii later was able to create protection for Hawaii from the brown tree snake on a rider of Senator Glenn's bill. Currently, when one flies into Hawaii, one needs to fill out a form declaring any live animals or plant products, so as to protect the indigenous plants an animals from another brown tree snake. Certainly, people had become more aware of what damage an exotic species could do to a native population.

     Perhaps you have heard of Area 51, the Nevada Air Force Base which has created popular appeal for conspiracy theorists who believe that the American military is doing secret work with extraterrestrial technology. Area 50 has not had as much urban legend appeal, but it is the boon to the native birds of Guam. Instead of harboring alien technology, Area 50 harbors a kind of Noah's Ark. It is here, right in the Northwest Field of Anderson Air Force Base, that reintroduction of Guam's native birds from Rota took place. The creation of the Guam National Wildlife Refuge marked the beginning of the restoration for endemic birds such as the Guam rail and kingfisher. It is here where hopefully, species which almost accidentally went extinct perhaps have a means by which they can come to thrive.

     And so, once again, mankind has put his hand on nature, directing it through his means to achieve certain results. This time, it is not mass slaughter, or indifference leading to the extermination of a species. This is, in a sense, a re-creation story, the story that says you can go to Eden again. Or at least, one could try to. Man may not get it wholly right this time; perhaps man's other activities will interfere too much, perhaps the wrong balance was achieved to create a viable ecosystem, and maybe another inadvertent predator will show up again to wreck the whole game plan.

     But man has plans, and since his species seems compelled to design past his territory or see all territory as a canvas for his imagination, at least Area 50 is an oasis for those species nearly destroyed to perhaps have another chance. Humans who invaded the island of Guam, brought war and bloodshed to its shores, and accidental predators to its land are now seeking to heal this piece of paradise. It is an attempt to encompass more than mankind in human plans. Perhaps this time, humanity's interference will lead to healing, and not to oblivion. The silence of the birds were a warning: we are not alone. The world around us is affected by even our unconscious actions, and unintentional consequences can be as deadly as the ones we intended.

SOURCES

NationMaster
The Ultimate Guide into Guam and her People
Final Integrated Trip Report—Site Visits to Area 50, Andersen Air Force Base, Guam National Wildlife Refuge, War in the Pacific National Historical Park, Guam, Rota and Saipan, CNMI, 2004–2005 By Steven C. Hess and Linda W. Pratt
Jaffe, Mark: And No Birds Sing. New York : Simon & Schuster, c1994.
Sacks, Oliver W.: The Island of the Colorblind and Cycad Island. New York : Alfred A. Knopf, c1996.
Gailey, Harry A.: The Liberation of Guam, 21 July-10 August 1944. Novato, CA : Presidio, c1988