The world may be burning but at least the world’s fattest parrot has been boning.
Content warning: This story contains kākāpō sex. Lots of it.
Last time we checked in on the kākāpō, they were boning like bonobos. Oblivious to the horrors of the world, the world’s fattest parrots had embarked on what The Spinoff, and possibly scientists, regarded as their most ambitious fuck season in decades. Male kākāpō were standing in the small dirt baths they’d built in the middle of forest, yelling and hoping that one or more of a record 83-strong population of breeding females would wander along and have sex with them. Somehow that tactic worked, producing 256 eggs, of which 148 were fertile and 105 hatched.
Birdbrained observers may have dismissed this as typical parrot behaviour. For the kākāpō, it was anything but. The rotund green psittaciformes are precisely calibrated to go extinct. They practice strict abstinence until our rimu trees are in mast, producing a harvest of fleshy, nourishing berries. Unfortunately for their survival, that only happens every two to four years.
This year was the first mast in four years and a bountiful one to boot. As the kākāpō emerged from their long sexless era into their relatively short era of sex, the world watched in wonder and no small degree of desperation. The New York Times reported in-depth on the “mating frenzy”. New Zealanders gathered round the kākāpō nest livestreams. This year has been a total shitter on the non-parrot front. Here was a small fleeting chance at some hope.
Now, six months later, good news has finally arrived. The youngest surviving chick from the berry-fuelled bacchanalia has reached 150 days old and is considered to be fledged and independent enough to be added to the kākāpō population count. With the addition of the catchily named Awarua-A3, this fuck season has officially brought 90 kākāpō into the world. It takes the bird’s population to 325, the first time that figure has climbed past 300 in 75 years.
Thank Christ. These last few months have had all the appeal of an ocean swim off Moa Point. When the economy wasn’t crashing, Dolly Parton was dying. When Tim Curry wasn’t dying, our emergency departments seemed to be collapsing. Ellen Rykers, an environmental journalist for RNZ and NZ Geographic, says baby kākāpō are a bright light in the yawning gloom. “While the world at large continues to disappoint, at least the kākāpō are delivering on their promises.”
To make sure that continues to be the case, DOC will have to expand its conservation efforts. The kākāpō population is now so large it’s going to have a task on its hands finding appropriate predator-free locations for them to breed next time the rimu are in mast. “If we want to keep kākāpōmaxxing, we need to fix the kākāpō housing crisis,” says Rykers. That prospect of a kākāpōmaxed future is as good as any reason for her to stave off despair. “It’s been several years now since I’ve met a kākāpō in the feather, and a growing population means better chances of crossing paths in the future. So that’s as good a reason as any to keep slogging.”
We could do worse than to follow Rykers’ emotional lead. Yes, the price of mince may be rising astronomically but at least the kākāpō population is as well. The UN says it’s now inevitable that the world will pass 1.5°C of warming but it’s increasingly likely our toasty future will still contain some large green parrots. One day, in two to four but hopefully closer to two years, the rimu will erupt in mast again. Until then all we can do is make like the male kākāpō and stand in our little hovels, yelling about whatever’s on our mind and hoping something good comes along.
