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Controlling S. Africa's
elephant population By Robyn Dixon Los Angeles Times WELGEVONDEN, South Africa - Samson, otherwise known as Elephant No. 1, is twisting his trunk around tufts of grass and throwing them into his mouth. He is aware that David Powrie has sneaked up on him but is willing to ignore him for now. The tall, blond, sunburned ranger knows each one of the 120 elephants here in Welgevonden Game Reserve, identifying them by nicks in their ears, tusks and the patterning of their tails - almost like a fingerprint. He sniffs the air for the bulls in must (they exude an oily secretion when looking for females) and follows their dinner-plate-size footprints. He knows a turn of the wind can change an elephant's mood instantly. Powrie also knows elephants hate loud noises. Samson, like most, does not like helicopters, given the habit those shrieking metal beasts have of swooping down and leaving one forever changed, as happened last year. Samson was shot with a dart and fell unconscious. He was lifted by crane onto a flatbed truck and driven to a clearing. There, a group of American veterinarians from Disney World's Animal Kingdom performed a vasectomy. This is a highly complex operation, given elephant anatomy. Their testicles are located deep on either side of the spine, requiring a specially made laparoscope for the surgery. Powrie's task is to study the effects of vasectomies on the behavior of four sterilized bulls, and the reactions of 42 female elephants to a contraceptive recently administered by shooting darts from a helicopter. He spends his days with a tracking antenna, observing their behavior. It is part of a national research effort to answer pressing questions about South Africa's elephant population: Considering elephants' humongous appetites and destructive habits, is the 20,000-strong herd threatening the habitat of other species? If so, how do you control population growth? There are only four known solutions for limiting the number of elephants: birth control, relocation, "trans-frontier parks" that span borders, and the one that people don't like to talk about, shooting and killing the animals from helicopters. The South African government's draft policy on elephant population control includes all four. Some South African conservationists believe a "cull" is inevitable in hugely popular Kruger National Park, which had 12,500 elephants at last count in 2006. But killing elephants surely would cause international protest, given human sentiments about elephants and the perception that they are an endangered species (correct in other parts of the continent but not in southern Africa). There is talk among animal-rights organizations of a tourist boycott of South Africa should culling take place, threatening one of the country's top industries. Culls do not involve disposing of the oldest or weakest. They mean killing entire herds, including youngsters, because the animals' social structures are so complex and interdependent. Luckily for Samson, ensconced in a private reserve with a vasectomy behind him, the men with guns in helicopters will never come for him. Here in northern South Africa, not far from the border with Botswana, Samson has just had a mud bath in a favorite pool and, with ample fresh green grass, seems content. For research purposes, the elephants are given numbers, but Powrie's name for him has a better ring to it than "No. 1." Powrie crouches 40 yards away. Before sneaking closer, he takes out a rifle and puts the emergency bullet into his pocket. He also carries pepper spray. In his time working in game reserves, Powrie has faced charging rhinos, lions and elephants. It has deepened the respect he has had for animals since his childhood, growing up in the bush. Samson gradually moves closer. Suddenly, he stands still, stares in Powrie's direction and flaps his ears. He looks huge: more than 11 feet tall and about six tons. Powrie stands up and talks to Samson in a calm, quiet voice. Samson pulls in his ears and bends down to the grass again. After a warning like that, it's time to retreat. "He'll give you body language; he'll never just attack you," Powrie says. "You've come along, interfering with his happy bubble. He'll give you signals, saying, 'I'm not really happy,' and that's when you get out of there." Some days, Powrie sees almost nothing. Other days, he will see a group of elephants frolicking in a pool, only to be interrupted by dueling bulls. He keeps an online diary at www.welgevonden.org. As South Africa wrestles with its elephant population, even that favorite buzzword, eco-tourism, is in question. Guaranteeing tourists a lot of game sightings can mean overstocking. Tourists want to see elephants up close, not a wisp of tail or a flap of ear as Powrie often does. "Naturally, if you have someone from overseas and they have never seen an elephant, you want to show them," Powrie says. "But you also don't want to cut your own throat by having levels too high for environmental sustainability." After the vasectomies, no one was sure what to expect of the sterilized bulls. Would they still mate? Would they still fight off younger, less dominant bulls? In short, would they still act like bulls? If they slipped down the elephant hierarchy, the whole point of sterilizing them could be neutralized as other bulls took their places. So far, Powrie's research has found the sterilized bulls have not acted differently. While the females on birth control come into mating season more often, he's seen no ill effects. Female elephant contraceptives are not hormonal but stimulate an immune response in the fine membrane coating the eggs, preventing fertilization. Welgevonden director Andrew Parker, initially skeptical, sees the operations and female contraception as a realistic solution for smaller elephant populations with limited terrain. But for populations as large as Kruger's, it is seen as impractical. Moving elephants is also tricky, because there are many South African reserves with more than enough elephants and few with a shortage. The concept of moving them to West African countries with few or no elephants is complicated by logistics and cost. Many see trans-frontier parks and conservation areas as offering something elephants need: space. But Rudi van Aarde, who has studied elephants as head of the Conservation Ecology Research Unit at the University of Pretoria, scoffs at solutions such as vasectomies, contraception and culling. The answer, he says, is not greater human intervention but less: Pull down the fences and let the elephants roam from country to country as they once did. Van Aarde, a member of a scientific advisory group to the government, argues that human development, fences and the creation of water holes have concentrated elephant populations in limited areas, putting pressure on habitat and other species. "We have cases in South Africa of elephants being kept in tiny areas," he says. "These parks are what I'd call pathologically small. In reality, a proper goal for these small parks would be to extend them, connect them up." Powrie tries not to be sentimental about elephants. He has his favorites and enjoys giving them names. But he respects all animals. As the daylight softens into gray, he leaves Samson, who fades into the evening shadows. http://www.philly.com/inquirer/health_science/20080114_ControllingS__Africas_elephant_population.html |
