Coastal New South Wales, or: An Exercise in the Law of Diminishing Returns

Ok so I’ve actually been back a week two weeks, and I’ve been somewhat tied up in the lab working on my DNA extractions so I have only just had the chance, nay, the motivation to blog. And it’s an excellent form of procrastination! I don’t really want to start writing my thesis; yesterday I spent a good two hours working on the template for my chapters, but didn’t actually write anything…needless to say I will attempt to get onto that tonight…
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I’m still in two minds about the trip; on the one hand it was an incredible experience and I saw some pretty amazing things (from a geeky scientist’s point of view, anyway), but it was also much more stressful than I remember my Arid NSW trip being, especially the inevitable cabin fever. The problem with covering such a big area (2600kms total, from Coolangatta to Sydney and everywhere in between) is that most of the time you’re just driving along at 100kms an hour, stopping at random to look at plants that seem a little different – a practice I have dubbed Drive By Botany. The whole experience wasn’t helped by the fact that I got molested by MAF on the way back in because it was my supervisor’s name on the permit, and not mine.
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Anyway, there are some amazing sights in that part of the world; most people spend their time in NSW either in Sydney, or on the Pacific Highway travelling up to Brisbane, without having a look at the landscapes that exist only 100km or so westwards. These areas have some incredible subtropical and temperate rainforests, with the last remnants of ‘Gondwanan’ plants, including the Podocarpaceae (eg. rimu, kahikatea, miro etc in New Zealand) and Nothofagaceae (i.e. southern beeches) which dominate New Zealand’s flora and some amazing Araucariaceae such as the hoop pines, the same family as our kauri. In most other parts of Australia, these once dominant families have been marginalised by the sclerophyllic plants that have evolved in situ in response to changing climatic and soil conditions – genera such as Eucalyptus, Grevillea and Acacia. The Eucalypts in particular have come to dominate many of the wetter and dryer environments to produce wet and dry sclerophyllic communities, which are quite different in terms of their composition from the rainforests. Nonetheless, both are quite striking, and hugely different from the arid landscapes we encountered in the Far Western Plains.

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Dry Littoral Rainforest
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Wet Sclerophyll Forest
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Dorrigo National Park – one of the last remnants of Podocarp Rainforest in Australia

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The fauna was also quite different – huge golden orb web spiders (Nephila edulis) that just hang there, only to be noticed the second before you plough head long into their webs. For an arachnophobe, not the best experience. But there were some amazing thorny spiders (not sure of their taxonomic affiliation?)

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Golden Orb Web Spider Nephila edulis
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Thorny Spider Cudman Reserve Dry Littoral Rainforest
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Thorny Spider Wollemi National Park

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Of course there were the usual reptiles such as the skinks and snakes. Sadly, no photos of the snakes that we saw – a juvenile Eastern Brown Snake (Pseudonaja textilis) which hightailed as soon as it heard us coming and a Red Bellied Black Snake (Pseudechis porphyriacus) that was dozing on a track on the Watagans National Park before dashing off quickly just after I missed stepping on it!
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The highlight of the trip, of course, was my first run in with the the hirudineans – leeches! New Zealand has a few native leeches, but they aren’t really known to parasitise humans. Their Australian counterparts, however, are another story…I ran into my first one in the wet sclerophyll forests of Kyogle and the Richmond Range, and ran into them consistently all the way down to Sydney. They either ‘walk’ along the ground and then up your leg, or stand on leaves and wait for movement, before falling onto you and attaching for a bit of blood sucking. The annoying thing is that they bite with an anaesthetic, so you usually can’t feel them attach. then when they finally do drop off, or you rip them off, or burn them off with toothpaste, you continue to bleed due the fact they they also inject you with an anticoagulent. They grossed me out at first, but you tend to get used to them!

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A leech after my leg
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My leg after a leech

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There were some other awesome sights – huge beautiful moths, Hibiscus plants that look like Cannabis sativa at first glance, impressive epiphytic ferns and the beautiful chaotic flowers of the mistletoe Amyema congener. The sad thing is that these areas are under huge threat from introduced weeds, specifically Lantana and Madeira vine which form massive inpenetrable thickets that prevent forest regeneration. Considerable effort is being made to remove these and other weeds, which is vital to prevent the final loss of some of these ancient systems.

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Random Beautiful Huge Moth
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Young Hibiscus heterophyllus plant…hmmmm…suspicious looking
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Hibiscus heterophyllus flower
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Epiphytic ferns – Richmond Range National Park
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Amyema congener flowers
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Me

The false dichotomy of environmentalism…

Peter at Not PC has made the claim (or rather, repeated George Reisman’s claim) that environmentalists are just recycled communists and fascists with a greenwash. Specifically:

The “extremists” among you openly call for the death of 1 to 6.4 billion human beings. The “moderates” among you openly call for the forced reduction in carbon dioxide emissions of 90 percent within a few decades, which would serve to reduce energy use almost to the same extent.

We are presented with the argument that it’s either survival through unrestrained capitalism, or the death of our species and our civilisation through ‘environmentalism’. Either we survive, or we knock ourselves of for the good of the planet.

This argument is a cop-out, because it presents the issues that we face today as a blatant false dichotomy.

There are a very small few individuals who believe that the world would be better off with a smaller population of humans, but it is disingenuous to represent those views as part of the broader environmentalist movement and then demand that the rest of us distance ourselves from them. The vast majority of us [environmentalists] do not advocate a culling of human populations and we most certainly do not condone those views. To tar us all with the same brush, and then claim that the onus is on us to prove that we are not genocidal maniacs is reprehensible.

The second claim, that the reduction of our environmental impact will inherently lead to the destruction of all that is good and holy in human civilisation is blatantly false. The exact opposite is true. If we continue on our current path of consumption and waste, the human civilisation that we obviously hold so dear is unsustainable. Our consumption of resources is well beyond what is available to us in the long term. All that environmentalism demands is restraint, and a true evaluation of our needs and wants as individuals.

Capitalism has acted, particularly in the latter half of last century, to change our role in society and democracy from citizen to consumer. We are living in the age of the Thing. We confuse our want of things for needs, the result of billions of dollars worth of advertising, PR and an unholy alliance between our businesses and our political systems.

There is of course no problem in consuming things, but when we consume beyond what we really need to profligate excess, and simply discard what we no long feel we want, there will be consequences. Climate Change is but one consequence to our culture of consumption; a long term effect that in my view will have less of dire effect on the ability of our species to survive than our destruction of habitats across the globe, aquatic and terrestrial. The survival of our species is inherently dependent on the survival of our ecosystems. On a basic level we require oxygen from the oceans and our forests, but more subtley, the ability of life to withstand perturbations, catastrophes and disasters is dependent on how diverse and robust our ecosystems are. We are not helping ourselves by ripping it up, filling it with shit or introducing invasive species.

To claim that reducing our consumption (and as a consequence our carbon dioxide emissions) will drastically reduce the quality of life of Americans (and by association the western world) is utterly false when we consider that the quality of life of the consumer is padded with excess and waste. Our quality of life will not be harmed if we walked or cycled or bused to work or school 2 or 3 days a week. Our quality of life will not be harmed if we did not eat meat 2 or 3 days a week. Our quality of life will not be harmed if we chose not to use plastic bags to carry our shopping. Our quality of life will not be harmed if we chose to switch to renewable energy sources. Our quality of life will not be harmed if we chose to use a more fuel efficient vehicle rather than the obscene and frankly selfish vehicles that some of us think we ‘need’. Our quality of life is likely to be increased – we would save money, we would live healthier lives and would begin to appreciate our resources.

Consider this small fact:

If all American households used their clothes dryers for only half of the year, enough energy would be saved to turn off an entire nuclear power plant. Carbon emissions would be reduced by 3.3%, simply by hanging washing on a line for only half of the year. Currently 60 million Americans who belong to home owner’s associations are not allowed to use washing lines because they are unsightly and unsafe, despite over $90 million worth of damage occuring annually from drying machine fires.

Granted, It will take a lot more than just using the clothes line to decrease the impact of mass consumption, but it is possible to do it without decreasing our quality of life. All it requires is a change of mindset and a breaking of habits, thinking about where our products are coming from, how they got to us and whether or not we want them or need them. It will require turning our backs on being selfish and questioning whether or not the way that we are acting is harmful to other people (through slave labour and exploitation) or to our planet. It will require a change in our business models – a shift from short term profiteering to long term viability. In the long run, the ability of our civilisation to survive is dependent on our need to wake up from the opiate of things and realise where that path is taking us. I don’t hold out much hope. It is easier to accept the soma of convenience, excess and consumption than accept the hard truths about the consequences. Waste in the landfills; heads in the sands.

I find Reisman’s final quote the most ironic, steeped as it is in hypocrisy:

Accept moral responsibility for the ideas you propound and stop standing in the service of mass destruction and death.

Consider which economic system has caused the most mass destruction and death

Outback Australia NSW

In August and September last year I spent two weeks in the outback, around the area of Broken Hill, Fowlers Gap, and right up in the north-western corner at Sturt National Park, collecting plants for my Masters. I travelled with Tony and Viv Whitaker, who provided the most amazing field support. Tony, as I mentioned in my last post, is a herpetologist who travels all over the world doing field work for varied individuals and organisations. It was an absolute pleasure to travel with Tony and Viv, who were invariably optimistic and motivated in the face of the law of diminishing return.We flew into Sydney and then straight to Broken Hill, where we spent one night before heading onto the road up to Fowler’s Gap, a research station of the University of New South Wales. We stayed in a little single room cottage running solely of solar and wind power, of which there are plenty in the outback.

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The Ochre Cottage

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The Barrier Ranges around Broken Hill

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The landscapes are just phenomenal; they really have to be seen to be believed. Gibber plains – the eroded remnants of billion year old mountain ranges represented today by the low lying Barrier Ranges – stretch on for hundreds of kilometres. The roads are criss-crossed dry creek beds that flood during the rains in winter, but remain dry for 90% of the year, bordered by Red River Gum (Eucalyptus camaldulensis) which dominates the land along with Belah (Casuarina pauper), Mulga (Acacia aneura), Dead Finish (A. tetragonophylla) and millions of saltbushes, daisies and peas.

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A common sight

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A not so common sight – Swainsona fissimontana after rain

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Probably the hardest thing to grasp about the area is that every square metre, except for those in the National Parks, is farming land. Where you see the ground covered in nothing more than rock and sand, you will see fences. It is incredibly unproductive and extremely damaging on an already vulnerable environment. Communities essentially collapse there because the slow growing vegetation simply can’t withstand the herbivore pressure from cows, sheep, goats and kangaroos. Of course with the vegetation gone, the invertebrate and invertebrate communities also suffer. Not to mention the pressure on the Murray-Darling water system that farming here places. But of course, no one would dream of suggesting that farming ought not to be undertaken in the deep deep Outback because, well ‘it’s a way of life’. One that probably won’t last too much longer.

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Grazed Land at Fowler’s Gap

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Non-Grazed Land at Fowler’s Gap – The Mulga Reserve

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The land to the left of the fence is grazing land.
The land to the right has been fenced off for 30 years (the Emu Pen).

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After Fowler’s Gap, we stayed in Sturt National Park, a protected area in the topmost corner of New South Wales. We stayed at the Mount Wood Historic Homestead, administered by the NSW National Parks and Wildlife Services and run by the amazing head ranger, Ingrid. Ingrid was a German PhD student studying kangaroos at Fowlers Gap who fell in love with the Outback and its kangaroos, and now nurses orphaned joeys back to health – with the help of pillowcases as surrogate pouches. She has an incredible amount of energy and passion for her job, which was inspiring. We should all hope to love our jobs with that much passion. The lack of grazing in SNP has allowed for a fantastic regeneration of the vegetation – where in Fowler’s Gap the land was barren and rocky, the plains of SNP are covered with beautiful herbs and shrubs.

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Ingrid and her ’son’  

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You can see why she fell in love with them…

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The outback is a harsh but beautiful place. It can kill you easily if you’re not careful or prepared. But if you look closely enough you can see a world of colour and life, animals and plants that are so beautifully adapted to their environment, unique in their evolutionary histories. I hope that more Australians get the chance to experience it, and learn to treasure it.

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Me

View my slideshow here

Plant of the Week

This week’s plant of the week isn’t actually a single species, but rather a group of plants that have become endangered in New Zealand – the representatives of the Loranthaceae family, or mistletoes.

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Mistletoes are found throughout the world, and it often comes as a surprise that we have a number (8) of native species here, so absent as they are from public consciousness. Granted, they are certainly more well known in the South Island, where they are more common, but they are generally so rare nowadays, that they are almost unknown by most Kiwis. During my field trip last year to Australia, I couldn’t help but notice the huge amounts of mistletoes there, both in terms of sheer numbers and the number of species, even in the driest regions of the Outback: In any given area, at least one tree had a mistletoe growing into it; in some areas, every tree had one, often more massive than the tree itself.

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Like all mistletoes, the New Zealand species are hemi-parasitic. Mistletoe seeds are generally spread by birds, and germinate on host tree branches, often with their own complete portion of fertiliser. From there the seed grows into the branch of the host plant, tapping into the host’s vascular system to get access to sugars, nutrients and water. Over time, the mistletoe will grow and begin to photosynthesise on its own, relying less on the host plant for sugars, and more for its water and nutrient requirements. Like all parasites, mistletoes have negative effects on their hosts, and can severely restrict growth and reproduction. However, they are also recognised as a keystone species in most ecosystems, providing food and nesting sites for a number of animals, particularly birds.

New Zealand has Beech-, Green- Dwarf-Mistletoes. The Beech Mistletoes, as their name suggests, comprise three species (Peraxilla tetrapetala, P. colensoi and Alepis flavida that predominantly parasitise the native southern beech species (Nothofagus spp.), although they are also found on other native species including Tawheowheo (Quintinia serrata) The two Peraxilla species have bright red flowers in Summer, which in older times would turn entire mountain ranges red at Christmas. The Green Mistletoes are perhaps less charismatic but far more generalised than the Beech Mistletoes, and one species, Ileostylus micranthus has been recorded on over 200 host species, including totara and the Pittosporum species.

The main threat to our native mistletoes are possums, which is not unsurprising given the damage that the barstards have done to many of our plants and ecosystems. Mistletoes have declined hugely in range over the last 100 years, and are now entirely absent in many areas where they were previously common. Possums browse the flowers, leaves and shoots of mistletoes, removing vital food source for native birds such as tuis and bellbirds, which in turn act as pollinators for the mistletoes. As a result, not only do the mistletoes disappear, but bird populations also begin to suffer. Many areas that have effective long term possum population control (through 1080 drops) have had remarkable restoration of their mistletoe populations.

Peraxilla tetrapetala
Peraxilla colensoi
Peraxilla tetrapetala on Beech in the Southern Alps.

Plastic Broth

Further to my rant of last week, the Herald (and the Independent, via No Right Turn) reported today on just exactly where a large portion of our plastic crap ends up (that is, if we’re not burying it in the ground along with our heads in the sand): in a giant broth in the North Pacific.Fantastic.

This is an outcome of a system that prizes consumption over consequence. But hey, it’s best just not to think about it.

Please don’t stop the Music

Today’s story about plastic bags in the Herald really got me fuming. It is simply unfathomable that 100 BILLION plastic bags are used in the United States every year. It is simply disgusting that less than 1% of these are recycled. It gets even more depressing when you learn that over 12 million barrels of oil are used to produce those bags. Before you can say that that’s just a symptom of the grotesque profligacy of the Land of the Free, it’s not that much better here, with an estimated use of over 1.4 billion bags every year.The problem with plastic bags, other than their quite obvious environmental implications, is that their use is entirely without cost or consequence to the uber-consumers that we have become. They’re free in almost every establishment in this country, except Pak’N'Save; they are not regulated, or taxed. They are a just used and turfed and it means nothing.

What made me most angry, though, was the silver tongue of complacency of Paul curtis, of the Packaging Council of New Zealand:

“Taking a bag may fast be becoming the crime of the century but what would we do without them?”

I’ll tell you what we’d bloody do: we would take a serious look at the consequences of our actions and use an alternative. The “Make a Difference” campaign of Foodstuffs and Progressive Enterprises has all but failed. Tellers can not be relied upon to gently remind us no to use plastic bags; I have to literally restrain the teller at my local from putting my things into a bag. Moreover, consumers cannot generally be trusted to make a less convenient choice when the more convenient choice is consequence free; the market simply doesn’t work that way. Either vendors need to start charging their customers for plastic bags, and pass the impact of the bags onto consumers, or the industry needs to be regulated and taxed to discourage plastic bag use. Instead, Curtis lulls us into a false sense of security by assuring us that being quietly reminded not to use plastic bags will solve the problem; that thinking twice is better than paying the price.

Anyway, since nothing is likely to happen in this country about this issue, here are my own experiences and tips on plastic bag use:BUY ALTERNATIVES: Cloth and recycled plastic bags, both of which are eminently reuseable, are cheap and reliable. I have had mine for over 6 years and they still work perfectly.

PLAN AHEAD: Make a habit to sit down and make a shopping list, and get your cloth bags out of the pantry or cupboard when you do. Not only will you start to get into the habit of taking them, but you will probably save money: people who use and stick to shopping lists generally spend less money at the supermarket.

DON’T PACK YOUR VEGES OR FRUIT IN PLASTIC: Do you REALLY need to pack each different type of vegetable into a plastic bag? Think about it: 10 types of fruit and veges means ten extra bags – as many again as you would get for your total grocery trip.

BE PREPARED: Keep a cloth bag in your car for small unplanned trips to the supermarket – that was the real killer for me.

REFUSE PLASTIC: If you are asked whether or not you want a plastic bag (which you probably won’t be, but hey), just say no. It’s actually very easy, and it’s one less plastic bag that will end up in the rubbish.