Dr KARL SHUKER

Zoologist, media consultant, and science writer, Dr Karl Shuker is also one of the best known cryptozoologists in the world. He is the author of such seminal works as Mystery Cats of the World (1989), The Lost Ark: New and Rediscovered Animals of the 20th Century (1993; greatly expanded in 2012 as The Encyclopaedia of New and Rediscovered Animals), Dragons: A Natural History (1995), In Search of Prehistoric Survivors (1995), The Unexplained (1996), From Flying Toads To Snakes With Wings (1997), Mysteries of Planet Earth (1999), The Hidden Powers of Animals (2001), The Beasts That Hide From Man (2003), Extraordinary Animals Revisited (2007), Dr Shuker's Casebook (2008), Karl Shuker's Alien Zoo: From the Pages of Fortean Times (2010), Cats of Magic, Mythology, and Mystery (2012), Mirabilis: A Carnival of Cryptozoology and Unnatural History (2013), Dragons in Zoology, Cryptozoology, and Culture (2013), The Menagerie of Marvels (2014), A Manifestation of Monsters (2015), Here's Nessie! (2016), and what is widely considered to be his cryptozoological magnum opus, Still In Search Of Prehistoric Survivors (2016) - plus, very excitingly, his four long-awaited, much-requested ShukerNature blog books (2019-2024).

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Showing posts with label extinct birds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label extinct birds. Show all posts

Thursday, 31 December 2020

BIG BIRD IS BACK IN BRITAIN – TWICE OVER!

Exquisite 1860s illustrations of the common crane (left) and the white stork (right), two spectacular species making very welcome returns to Britain as re-establishing breeding birds (public domain)

There hasn’t been a great deal to be thankful for in 2020, but on the ornithological front Great Britain has two very notable reasons to consider this year a favourably memorable one. This is due to the very welcome return as potentially re-establishing UK breeding birds of two very sizeable, spectacular species. Veritable Big Birds of Sesame Street stature, in fact, at least when compared to most other feathered members of the British fauna, they were both formerly native here, but until now have been conspicuous only by their continued absence from our shores for several centuries, except as non-breeding vagrant visitors.

So what better way to end this dismal year than on an avian high, by documenting these two very significant success stories here as my final blog article for 2020 on ShukerNature.

 

CRANING FOR ATTENTION

A bird that commands attention for the simple fact that, at over 4 ft tall and sporting a wingspan of up to 8 ft across, it is difficult to overlook is the common crane Grus grus – and for especially good reason lately.

This is because, after having been exterminated in Britain by hunting and habitat destruction several centuries ago, during the 1600s, this stately long-necked species has recently made a dramatic comeback here, and for two wholly separate reasons.

 
Common cranes, painted by Edward Neale, 1890s (public domain)

Firstly, in 1979 a few individuals from mainland Europe returned to their former wetland homeland in Norfolk in eastern England and began to breed, gradually increasing their numbers during the next 40 years.

Secondly, conservation work to improve wetlands elsewhere in England eventually encouraged this greatly-welcomed prodigal bird to spread further afield too.

 
A pair of common cranes (© Олексій Карпенко/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 4.0 licence)

In April 2020, the UK Crane Working Group was pleased to announce that crane numbers in Britain have reached their highest number for more than 400 years, with 56 breeding pairs here last year and 26 chicks successfully reared.

So if this very positive trend continues, with crane numbers increasing still further and its geographical range continuing to expand, it seems likely that before very much longer, wildlife enthusiasts in the UK may not have to crane their own necks too hard in order to catch sight of this elegant bird here once again.

 

STORKING A PLACE IN HISTORY

With the common crane gradually re-establishing itself in Britain after having previously died out here back in the 1600s, I'm delighted to say that another tall, equally spectacular bird is seeking to do the same after an even longer absence.

Standing up to 4 ft tall and boasting a wingspan of up to 7 ft, the white stork Ciconia ciconia is last known to have successfully nested in the UK way back in 1416, when a pair did so at St Giles' Cathedral in Edinburgh. Since then, this famous species has been but a rare non-breeding visitor to Britain from continental Europe – until last year, that is.

 
Adult male (left) and juvenile (right) white storks, painted by M.A. Koekkoek, from Ornithologia Neerlandica, Vol. 1, by E.D. van Oort, 1868 (public domain)

Founded in 2016 by a partnership of private landowners and nature conservation charities, the White Stork Project operates in three localities in Surrey and West Sussex, southern England, and using a series of injured storks from Poland that cannot fly far it hopes to re-establish the species as a breeding bird here.

In 2019, one of its females plus an unringed, possibly wild stork visiting from the continent paired up, built a nest in a tree within the Knepp Castle Estate, West Sussex, and laid some eggs, but tragically they failed to hatch.

 
A pair of adult white storks on their nest (© Andrea0250/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 4.0 licence)

As all storks do, this pair then spent the winter in warmer, African climes, but they returned to the same estate this spring, built a nest in a tree near to the one that they used last year, the female laid some eggs again – and this time, in early May, they hatched!

The White Stork Project is naturally delighted, and hopes that this much-anticipated event will herald the beginning of the breeding pair's stately species staking its much-deserved place in Britain's natural history once more. The Project's aim is to restore a population of at least 50 breeding pairs of white storks in southern England by 2030.

 
A gorgeous painting of white storks from Richard Crossley's The Crossley ID Guide Britain and Ireland (© Richard Crossley/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 3.0 licence)

 

Today, 31 December 2020, marks the 126th anniversary of the birth of my maternal grandmother, Gertrude Timmins, who passed away at the age of 99 in April 1994. I can still vividly remember Nan telling me when I was a youngster that once, while on a guided tour somewhere in Great Britain during the early 1900s, she saw an unusual bird that the guide identified as a crane. From her description of it, the bird seemed too small for such a species, but she stressed that the guide had insisted that it was indeed a crane. So who knows, maybe it was – a juvenile straggler, perhaps, a lonely stranger on the shore, like so many of us are.

 
Nan with my Jack Russell terrier Patch during the mid/late 1970s (© Dr Karl Shuker)

Happy birthday, Nan – how I wish that you, Mom, and all of my family were here with me to celebrate your big day today, and to greet the New Year all together tomorrow.

 

Wishing all of my ShukerNature readers a very happy, healthy 2021, and hoping that it will inspire me to prepare and post many exciting new blog articles here on ShukerNature!

 
Common cranes portrayed in another breathtakingly beautiful painting from Richard Crossley's The Crossley ID Guide Britain and Ireland (© Richard Crossley/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 3.0 licence)

 

 

Wednesday, 30 December 2020

MISSING MACAWS OF THE WEST INDIES - Part 1: RIDDLES IN RED AND YELLOW

Jan Steen's mystery red macaw (left); and Roelandt Savery's mystery red macaw (right) (both public domain)

In two previous ShukerNature blog articles, I surveyed a number of mysterious, seemingly-vanished or even still-undiscovered types of macaw with very diverse histories but united morphologically by their eyecatching plumage whose hues were all drawn from the blue, indigo, and violet sections of the colour spectrum (please click here and here to access these two articles). However, as will now be revealed in Part 1 of this major new 2-part ShukerNature article on missing macaws, also on file are some equally intriguing, mystifying examples of lost mystery macaws whose plumage exhibits vibrant hues drawn from the colour spectrum's red, orange, and yellow sections, and which were all reputedly different from any of the familiar macaw species known today. All of these species, moreover, were reported from the West Indies archipelago (click here for a very much briefer, introductory coverage of them on ShukerNature several years ago), and many chroniclers claimed that macaws were once extremely common there, yet today none of its islands (other than Trinidad, but see my comment later here) are home to any macaws at all.

Although I have since read many much more detailed accounts of them elsewhere, when still only a child I first learned about the Caribbean's lost macaws from Purnell's Encyclopedia of Animal Life. This was an extremely comprehensive, authoritative six-volume wildlife encyclopaedia first published during the 1960s and edited by zoologists Drs Maurice Burton and Robert Burton – which included the following very succinct summary of most of them:

The red macaw of Jamaica has not been seen since 1765 and the green and yellow macaw of the same island became extinct in the early 19th century. The Guadeloupe red macaw became extinct a century before this [i.e. during the 1700s] and the Dominican green and yellow macaw in the late 18th Century. The Martinique macaw has not been heard of since 1640 and then there was one which has been called the mysterious macaw. No specimen of this is known but a description of it was published in 1658 – and that is all we know of it except that it lived on 'one of the West Indian islands'.

The red macaw of Jamaica is A. gossei; the Jamaican green and yellow macaw is A. erythrocephala; the Guadeloupe red macaw is A. guadeloupensis; the Dominican green and yellow macaw is A. atwoodi; and the Martinique macaw is A. martinicus. As for the 'mysterious macaw', this is A. erythrura, and like the Martinique macaw it was principally blue and yellow in colour.

Cuban red macaw on Cuban postage stamps (public domain)

Two additional erstwhile Caribbean macaws not noted above by the Burtons are the Cuban red macaw A. tricolor and the scientifically-undescribed Hispaniolan red macaw (there is also the purple macaw of Guadeloupe Anodorhynchus purpurascens, already documented by me on ShukerNature here). I shall be examining the Caribbean's green and yellow mystery macaws as well as its blue and yellow mystery macaws in Part 2 of this article, so let us concentrate now upon its red and yellow examples.

Incidentally, I wish to point out that the illustrations that I am presenting here and also in Part 2 include several beautiful paintings depicting these birds' possible appearance in life that were commissioned by Lord Walter Rothschild for his magnificent tome Extinct Birds (1907).

In addition, please note that I am omitting from these two Parts' discussion any coverage or consideration referring to the islands of Trinidad and Tobago, because only one mystery macaw has ever been documented from either of them. This is Seaforth's macaw, described in 1822 from Trinidad by ornithologist J.A. Latham (but by no-one else), and almost certainly referable to a colour variety of the scarlet macaw Ara macao, a South American mainland species but which is native there too. Indeed, unlike all other Caribbean islands, but no doubt due to its very close proximity to South America, Trinidad is known to be inhabited by mainland macaw species (no less than four, in fact, including the above-noted scarlet macaw, plus the blue and yellow macaw A. ararauna, the red-shouldered macaw Diopsittaca nobilis, and the red-bellied macaw Orthopsittaca manilatus).

 

THE CUBAN RED MACAW

Depending upon which authority is consulted, as many as 15 endemic macaw species may have once inhabited various islands in the West Indies, but all of them are now extinct – always assuming, of course, that they ever existed to begin with. Indeed, most of them are nowadays commonly referred to in ornithological circles as hypothetical. Nevertheless, there can be no doubt whatsoever that at least one striking, predominantly red-plumed species of indigenous Caribbean macaw did indeed once exist.

This is because there are not only many eyewitness reports of it on file but also at least 19 preserved skins and taxiderm specimens in 15 major city museums around the world (including Liverpool, London, Berlin, Dresden, Paris, Stockholm, Washington DC, New York, Cambridge in Massachusetts, and Havana), plus subfossil remains. This species is, or was, the Cuban red macaw Ara tricolor, which, as its common name suggests, formerly inhabited the island of Cuba (plus the much smaller Isle of Pines, aka the Isla de la Juventud, nearby).

Quite small for a macaw, measuring a mere 20 in long, when adult this species was predominantly red and yellow in colour, but its wings were purplish-blue, and its tail was blue with pale blue upper tail coverts (hence its binomial name, tricolor – 'three-coloured', i.e. red, yellow, and blue). As in all macaws, the sexes were alike, but according to American zoologist Austin Hobart Clark, writing in an Auk paper of 1905 concerning Greater Antillean macaws, its juveniles were mostly green, rather than exhibiting the tricoloured plumage of the adults. No specimen or description of its egg is known.

Cuban red macaw, by John Gerrard Keulemans, from Lord Walter Rothschild's book Extinct Birds, 1907 (public domain)

Judging from a plethora of good native eyewitness accounts, the Cuban macaw existed in small populations scattered virtually throughout its island home, nesting in holes in palm trees and feeding upon fruit and seeds plus flower buds and sprouts, but was most common in the extensively forested area of Cuba's vast Zapata Swamp (Ciénaga de Zapata). There is contention as to how tasty (or otherwise) its flesh was, but it is certainly known that it was hunted by Cubans for its meat, and that its young were captured alive by them to be sold and bred as pets.

Although the Cuban red macaw was still said to be abundant in 1849, by the 1850s only one large flock still existed, which frequently came to feed at a small group of trees at Zarabanda in the Zapata Swamp, where quite a few of them were 'collected' (i.e. killed) by German-Cuban ornithologist Dr Juan C.C. Gundlach. This activity on his part and also by others, coupled with portions of its swampland habitat being lost to the creation of plantations, proved disastrous for the species, and in 1864 the last pair of Cuban red macaws known to have been killed in the wild were shot at San Francisco de la Vega.

This is not near the Zapata Swamp on mainland Cuba as frequently yet erroneously reported, but rather on the Isle of Pines, as correctly identified in 2013 by James W. Wiley and Guy M. Kirwan in their extensive Bulletin of the British Ornithologists' Club paper on extinct Caribbean macaws. They also correctly stated that it was a pair of macaws that was shot there, not a single one as is still so often mistakenly claimed by other writers.

Cuban red macaw, by François-Nicolas Martinet, 1765 (public domain)

Two single specimens were reputedly shot as late as 1867 by members of Spanish writer-priest Antonio Perpiña's entourage while travelling through central Cuba, and Gundlach believed that the species existed in the Zapata Swamp until as late as the mid-1880s, but there is no physical evidence to support his claim. Perhaps the best-known captive specimen is one that lived at Paris's famous Jardin des Plantes, its body being donated to Paris's National Museum of Natural History in 1842 after its death on 6 October of that year. However, once again contradicting frequent but incorrect claims cited elsewhere, it was not the last captive specimen.

One that was exhibited at Amsterdam Zoo, for instance, survived until 1858, and a specimen living in the Knowsley Park aviaries of the 13th Earl of Derby died in March 1846. Both of these latter specimens were again donated to museums following their deaths, with the Knowsley Park individual being retained at Liverpool's World Museum.

Habitat destruction, hunting them for their meat, and the capturing of young macaws to serve as pets have also been cited as causes for the extinction of the other lost Caribbean macaws documented here and in Part 2, and certainly they showed surprisingly little fear of their hunters, thereby making their killing a tragically easy task. Yet unlike the Cuban red macaw, there are no preserved skins or stuffed specimens of any of these latter forms. As will now be seen, however, there are for at least certain of them some noteworthy written accounts and intriguing illustrations testifying to their erstwhile reality.

 

RED MACAWS OF HISPANIOLA AND GUADELOUPE

Until the end of the 16th Century, a scientifically-undescribed species of red macaw, one that was fairly similar in appearance to that of Cuba, may also have existed on the neighbouring island of Hispaniola, judging from a short description given in 1561 by Spanish historian and Dominican friar Bartolomé de las Casas within his authoritative three-volume Historia de Las Indias (History of the West Indies).

Differentiating by their respective size three different species of Hispaniolan parrot (seemingly a macaw, an amazon parrot, and a conure), he stated:

The largest…differ from those of the other islands in that they have over the bill or the forehead white, not green or red; those of this species that are in the island of Cuba have over the bill or the forehead red.

A single later report of a macaw on Hispaniola, on the authority of local resident M. Deshayes, was subsequently documented in 1779 by the eminent French naturalist Count Georges-Louis de Buffon within his multi-volume magnum opus Histoire Naturelle. In 1983, German macaw enthusiast Dieter Hoppe dubbed the Hispaniolan red macaw Ara tricolor haitius in his book Aras, thereby classifying it as a subspecies of the Cuban macaw.

Possible appearance of the Hispaniolan red macaw, envisaged by Brazilian bird artist Rafael Nascimento (© Rafael Nascimento)

A third alleged Caribbean species that was apparently predominantly red-plumed, and which was formally named by Austin Hobart Clark in 1905, was the Guadeloupe red macaw A. guadeloupensis, also known as the lesser Antillean macaw. The first known mention of this species by a European derived from the voyages of none other than Christopher Columbus, who mentioned in his writings that when visiting Guadeloupe in 1493, his landing party observed "red parrots as large as chickens" there (or guacamayos, as referred to by the island's native Caribs at that time). And according to Diego Álvarez Chanca, who joined Columbus on his second voyage (1493-94), they took two such macaws from the houses of Caribs encountered by them on Guadeloupe.

Furthermore, during the 1650s, French missionary Jean-Baptiste Du Tertre also referred to these very distinctive red macaws of Guadeloupe, which he termed the arras and documented as follows:

The Arras is a sort of Parrot bigger than all the others. This is proved because those of Guadaloupe [sic] are larger than all the other Parrots, both those from the Islands as well as from the Mainland; while this Arras is larger than these by one third. It has the head, the neck, the belly and the back of the colour of fire; its wings are a mixture of yellow, azure, and crimson feathers; while the tail is entirely red and a foot-and-a-half long.

A sepia line drawing of one such macaw in the company of various other Guadeloupe fauna appears in Du Tertre's book Histoire Generale des Antilles (1667).

Guadeloupe red macaw, arrowed, in drawing from Jean-Baptiste Du Tertre's book Histoire Generale des Antilles, 1667 (public domain)

In Die New Welt (1534), German humanist and historian Johann Huttich stated that he had recorded on Guadeloupe a red macaw "present in such numbers as grasshoppers are with us", thereby indicating that it was very common back then. Nevertheless, this fiery-plumed macaw had seemingly vanished before the end of the 1700s, and has never been conclusively identified with any species alive today. Of great interest, however, is that it readily recalls a mysterious, predominantly red macaw featured prominently in one of the most famous depictions of another extinct bird, the Mauritius dodo Raphus cucullatus.

 

The depiction in question is a beautiful oil painting by Flemish artist Roelandt Savery (1576-1639), which was painted in Holland in 1626. It was once owned by George Edwards (1694-1773), a very talented English bird painter and author in his own right, and it is now housed at London's Natural History Museum. This great work has become virtually the 'standard' notion of what the dodo looked like in life (though in more recent times, the veracity of its chubby form has been questioned), and has thus attracted great attention.

In stark contrast, almost entirely ignored from an ornithological standpoint are the two very striking, colourful parrots that Savery painted to the dodo's immediate left and top-right in this same painting. Judging from their size and form, they are evidently macaws, but they do not resemble any known species. I'll be dealing with Savery's right-hand macaw in Part 2 of this article, as it is of potential relevance to two different Caribbean mystery macaws that I'll be documenting there. However, his left-hand macaw may well be equally pertinent to one specific Caribbean mystery macaw discussed here in Part 1, because other than its pale facial skin and some yellow-gold and blue wing plumes, this latter Savery-depicted macaw is entirely red.

Dodo and two mystery macaws, in Roelandt Savery's painting, 1626 (public domain)

If these two depicted macaws were meant to be real, it suggests that they may be lost (and possibly even undescribed) species, or unusual freak/hybrid individuals, but what happened to the specimens that they were based upon? Or could they have been 'invented' by Savery purely as colourful support for the more prosaic plumage of the dodo? Or perhaps they did exist but Savery's depictions of them were based not upon physical specimens but instead upon inaccurate verbal descriptions of known species?

What I find so interesting about Savery's depicted left-hand macaw is that it greatly recalls Du Tertre's description of the arras or Guadeloupe red macaw – so much so, in fact, that I cannot help but wonder whether a specimen of this latter macaw was brought back to Holland and became the model for Savery's red macaw.

Moreover, in his book The Dodo and Kindred Birds (1953), Japanese dodo expert Masauji Hachisuka included as the frontispiece a copy of Savery's original painting specially prepared for him by another famous but much later bird artist, John Gerrard Keulemans (1842-1912), and stated in the accompanying caption that the two macaws depicted in it were indeed from the West Indies.

Dodo and two mystery macaws, in Keulemans's copy of Savery's painting, in the frontispiece of Hachisuka's dodo book (public domain)

Certainly, transportation of Caribbean birds back to Europe in post-Columbus times frequently occurred. Hence it is by no means impossible that one or more Guadeloupe red macaws found their way to Europe at the time of Savery when this species was still extant in its West Indies homeland.

Having said that, while communicating in December 2010 with Jolyon Parrish, subsequently the author of The Dodo and the Solitaire: A Natural History (2012), I was informed by him that Savery sometimes altered the colours of his subjects to suit his specific needs for the painting in question, and that I should therefore be wary of placing too much emphasis upon the colours of the depicted dodo's two macaw companions. Jolyon also stated that some ornithologists have sought to identify Savery's depicted red specimen not as a Guadeloupe red macaw but rather as the much more familiar, and extant, red and blue (aka green-winged) macaw A. chloroptera from the South American mainland.

However, I find such an identification to be both surprising and implausible, because Savery's mostly blue-lacking and entirely green-lacking red macaw bears scant resemblance to A. chloroptera, bearing in mind that the latter species has vivid, instantly visible, and very sizeable portions of both blue and green upon its wings.

Red and blue (aka green-winged) macaw Ara chloroptera (copyright-free)

In any case, Savery's painting is not the only putative depiction of a Guadeloupe red macaw on record. A second, but hitherto much more obscure example was kindly brought to my attention in July 2013 by Brazil-based bird artist and crypto-ornithological researcher Rafael Nascimento.

The bird in question is a large red macaw, depicted sitting on a perch in the top-left corner of an oil painting from c.1665 by Dutch artist Jan Steen, entitled 'The Way You Hear It, Is The Way You Sing It'. As I soon realised when viewing it, this bird closely resembles Savery's depicted red mystery macaw (see the direct visual comparison of them that opens this present ShukerNature article).

Both of these birds have yellow and blue wing plumes (although the blue plumes are scarcely discernable in Steen's bird), but otherwise their plumage is uniformly red. Were these two depictions based upon two different specimens of the same species, I wonder – and could that species have been the now-demised Guadeloupe red macaw? Or perhaps Steen's depicted macaw was directly inspired by Savery's? But who can now say with any degree of certainty, more than four centuries later?

Mystery red macaw in Jan Steen's oil painting, 'The Way You Hear It Is The Way You Sing It', c.1665 (public domain)

Yet for there now to be two classical works of art depicting what is clearly one and the same variety of mystery red macaw, and one that corresponds closely with a verbal description of an ostensibly real but long-lost Caribbean species, certainly lends weight to the prospect that this latter macaw was indeed real, and not merely hypothetical, as some ornithologists have suggested due to no physical evidence for its former realty having been procured to date.

Also worthy of mention here is a colour plate that appeared in François-Nicolas Martinet's Histoire Naturelle (1765), which depicts a supposed Guadeloupe red macaw. Thanks to its wings' very striking blue and yellow plumes, which are much more prominent than those of the red mystery macaws depicted respectively by Savery and Steen, however, this bird bears much more of a resemblance to the scarlet macaw, and it may simply represent an imported scarlet macaw specimen.

A revised version of this plate that appeared in a contemporary work by Buffon makes it look even more like a scarlet macaw. Nevertheless, in both versions it lacks the blue tail feathers characteristic of the latter species but apparently lacking in the Guadeloupe red macaw, so this artwork remains something of an enigma.

Possible Guadeloupe red macaw depiction from François-Nicolas Martinet's book, Histoire Naturelle, 1765 (left); version of Martinet's plate depicting possible Guadeloupe red macaw, in contemporary tome by Buffon (right) (both images in the public domain)

 

THE JAMAICAN RED MACAW

The final principally red Caribbean macaw on record is A. gossei, the Jamaican red macaw (also known as the yellow-headed macaw). It was one of several extinct West Indies parrots formally described and named in 1905 by Lord Rothschild within a paper published by the Bulletin of the British Ornithologists' Club. Rothschild named this particular macaw in honour of the famous Victorian naturalist Philip Henry Gosse, who in his book The Birds of Jamaica (1847) had documented an individual shot about 10 miles east of Lucea in c.1765 by a Mr Odell.

Gosse had obtained his information concerning this specimen from an account sent to him by a Dr Robinson (not Robertson, as often mistakenly given elsewhere) who had observed it as a preserved taxiderm exhibit (but lacking its legs). Sadly, this unique specimen, the only one known of the Jamaican red macaw, is now lost, but Robinson's description of it is preserved in Gosse's book, so here it is:

Basal half of upper mandible black, apical half ash-coloured; lower mandible black, tip only ash-coloured. Forehead, crown, and back of neck bright yellow. Sides of face around eyes, anterior and lateral part of neck, and back, a fine scarlet. Wing coverts and breast, deep sanguine red. Winglet and primaries, an elegant light blue. The legs and feet were said to have been black; the tail red and yellow intermixed.

Jamaican red macaw Ara gossei, by Joseph Smit, from Rothschild's book Extinct Birds, 1907 (public domain)

Of great interest, moreover, is that in 2003, researchers C.T. Fisher and F.E. Warr, writing on the subject of avian-related library and manuscript resources in a paper published by the Bulletin of the British Ornithologists' Club, revealed that a hitherto-overlooked full-colour painting of a mysterious Jamaican macaw largely fitting Robinson's description as documented by Gosse had lately been discovered in a work containing many wildlife paintings published in 1765 – namely, Lieutenant L.J. Robins's The Natural History of Jamaica. The copy of this work in which the painting had been spotted was owned by the Earl of Derby.

Other researchers have since speculated that it was more likely to have been a Cuban red macaw that had been imported into Jamaica. (Moreover, parrot expert Tony Pittman has mentioned to me that A. gossei as a whole, not just this one specimen, might well have been based entirely upon examples of A. tricolor imported or traded from Cuba and therefore never existed as a valid species in its own right.)

Yet as can be seen here by comparing my article's illustrations of the Cuban red macaw with the Robins-derived painting, the Jamaican red macaw does not correspond precisely with the Cuban red macaw. In particular, its golden-yellow underparts differ markedly from the much darker underparts of the Cuban red macaw, as does its bright red back in comparison with the Cuban's very dark back.

Possible Jamaican red macaw painting in Lieutenant L.J. Robins's book The Natural History of Jamaica, 1765 (public domain)

Evidencing that mainland South American macaws (or, at the very least, known macaw species from Trinidad) have indeed been imported into Jamaica, within an Archives of Natural History paper published in October 2010 ornithological researcher S.T. Turvey documented a previously-unconsidered watercolour painting of a probable scarlet macaw A. macao that had lived on Jamaica, where it had been depicted in 1765 by John Lindsay.

However, whereas this latter specimen certainly does resemble the scarlet macaw, it does not recall either the macaw in the Robins painting or the macaw of Robinson's verbal description, indicating once again that A. gossei was a distinct, valid Jamaican endemic. Indeed, concluding their coverage of A. gossei within their authoritative tome Extinct Birds (2012), Julian P. Hume and Michael Walters opined:

Thus there seems to be reasonable evidence that at least one other endemic red macaw, along with Ara tricolor of Cuba, once occurred in the West Indies. Whether it justified specific status is now impossible to ascertain.

Scarlet macaw Ara macao, showing its characteristic blue tail plumes (© Dr Karl Shuker)

Finally: in 1967, within the second revised edition of his classic volume Extinct and Vanishing Birds of the World, the esteemed American ornithologist James C. Greenway opined that perhaps the scarlet macaw, the Cuban red macaw, and the mysterious red macaws reported from Hispaniola, Guadeloupe, and Jamaica collectively constituted a species complex, or superspecies as he called it. However, with no specimens of the last three macaws to examine, this must remain just an opinion, albeit a most intriguing one.

 

In Part 2 of this ShukerNature article (click here to access it), I examine reports and illustrations of some lost Caribbean macaws that reputedly sported green and yellow or blue and yellow plumage. I also survey the possible taxonomic status of a most interesting macaw-like mystery parrot featured in a very famous painting by the celebrated 17th-Century Dutch architect and painter Bartholomeus van Bassen – so don't miss it!

Extinct Birds author Lord Walter Rothschild aboard his famous zebra-drawn carriage (public domain)

 

Tuesday, 23 April 2019

THE STRANGE SAGA OF THE PARROT WORLD'S SEA-GREEN SCARLET PIMPERNEL - DOES THE ULTRA-ELUSIVE GLAUCOUS MACAW STILL EXIST?


Digital creation of glaucous macaws, by Andrés González (© Andrés González/Wikipedia - CC BY-SA 3.0 licence)

Most ornithologists currently recognise 17 species of living macaw. However, there are varying degrees of evidence to suggest that several additional forms have also existed in modern times but do so no longer. Some of them were confined to various Caribbean islands, and I have previously reviewed those examples briefly here on ShukerNature (I have now conducted and written up a much more extensive investigation of their cases that will be appearing shortly). But the ostensibly lost, highly controversial species under consideration by me right now hailed from continental South America – and, who knows, it may still do so.

Some of the most spectacular of all macaws are unquestionably those breathtaking beauties in blue that belong to the genus Anodorhynchus. Both in size and in colour, the three officially-recognised blue macaw species belonging to this genus exhibit an interesting gradation.

Glaucous macaw (centre) with hyacinth macaw (left) and Lear's macaw (right), on a Brazilian postage stamp (public domain)

The largest of this trio is the hyacinth or hyacinthine macaw A. hyacinthinus, named after its magnificent, exclusively blue plumage. Next in line is the mid-sized Lear's macaw A. leari, in which much of the hyacinth macaw's vivid cobalt shading has been replaced by subdued turquoise.

Then comes the glaucous macaw A. glaucus, slightly smaller than Lear's, with a plumage incorporating (as its name stresses) a subtle range of greenish-blue and sea-green hues - particularly upon its head, belly, and the upper surface of its tail feathers. In addition, its throat is brownish-grey, and the feathers around the lower portion of its face are sooty in colour. Tragically, however, this last-mentioned species is now extinct – or is it?

Glaucous macaw, as painted by Paul Louis Oudart for Louis Pierre Vieillot's work La Galerie des Oiseaux, 1825-1834, appearing in it as Plate 24 (public domain)

The scientific debut of the glaucous macaw took place in 1816, when it was formally described by French ornithologist Louis Pierre Vieillot. Its distribution at that time appeared to encompass southern Brazil, central and southern Paraguay, northern Argentina, and northeastern Uruguay, but by the end of the 19th Century this once-common species had seemingly vanished throughout its entire range. The reasons for this astonishing disappearance are still unknown, because the glaucous macaw had rarely been studied in the wild, although the major felling of yatay palms whose nuts were its staple diet, and the capturing of birds for the pet trade undoubtedly contributed.

Over the years, however, a few specimens had been exhibited in various of the world's major zoos - one of these was received by London Zoo in 1886, and a well-known example lived at Paris's Jardin d'Acclimatation from 1895 until 1905. Indeed, it is often claimed that this Paris specimen was the very last glaucous macaw. Conversely, some authorities confer that sombre distinction upon an individual that arrived at Buenos Aires Zoo in the 1920s and was still alive there in 1936, but there are others who believe that this latter bird was actually a Lear's macaw.

A glaucous macaw (foreground) with a Spix's macaw Cyanopsitta spixii, in a Hamburg animal dealer's premises, snapped by Karl Neunzig in 1895 (public domain)

Yet even if it was a genuine glaucous macaw, there is no certainty that it really was the last one. On the contrary, the published literature dealing with this exceptionally secretive species contains an appreciable number of reports alleging the much more recent existence of glaucous macaws, both in captivity and in the wild. Some of these are very vague, little more than rumours; but certain others are compelling enough to have stimulated cautious expectation within ornithological circles that this controversial bird's formal rediscovery is not very far away.

For instance, in her book Macaws: A Complete Guide (1990), parrot specialist Rosemary Low revealed that in 1970 the late Rossi dalla Riva of Brazil, an occasional breeder of rare parrots and very knowledgeable regarding his local region's avifauna, claimed that glaucous macaws nested there, but he would not name the precise locality, fearing that local collectors would send their hunters to trap them. Low also noted that in 1988, after spending some months in the field (she did not name the area), a very experienced bird trapper came back home and announced that he had spied glaucous macaws, but had not been able to photograph or capture any of them.

Another early glaucous macaw illustration, from Alexandre Bourjot Saint-Hilaire's Histoire Naturelle des Perroquets, 1837-1838 (public domain)

In his own book, The World of Macaws (1985), Dieter Hoppe noted that he had heard tell that during the 1970s a glaucous macaw had apparently been exhibited in a bird park either in Belgium or in the Netherlands, and that another supposed specimen had been alive somewhere in Australia during or around 1960. Hoppe also documented a much more tangible, firsthand encounter. Several years earlier, he had visited an animal dealer who had shown him two very strange hyacinth macaws, much smaller than normal and with atypical sea-green plumage; Hoppe believed that these were glaucous macaws.

In addition, he has published a photo of an odd-looking macaw assumed by the photographer, Tony Silva, to have been a Lear's macaw, but which was principally sea-green in colour instead of deep turquoise - another incognito specimen of A. glaucus? Certainly, there is a very real possibility that there are currently a number of unrecognised specimens of this scarcely-known species hiding 'undercover' in captivity, i.e. erroneously labelled as hyacinth or Lear's macaws.

A glaucous macaw skin, at Huub Veldhuijzen van Zanten-Naturalis Biodiversity Center in the Netherlands (© Huub Veldhuijzen van Zanten-Naturalis Biodiversity Center/Wikipedia - CC BY-SA 3.0 licence)

In 1982, writing in his Handbook of Macaws, Dr A.E. Decoteau claimed to be in regular correspondence with a European aviculturalist (no name or country of abode given) who was supposedly breeding a flock of glaucous macaws, from a tame pair that he had owned for several years. However, I have yet to see any mention elsewhere of this sensational programme of captive breeding.

Perhaps the most promising of the glaucous macaw's many reputed reappearances in modern times took place during February 1992, following the arrival at British Customs of a pair of Lear's macaws imported by parrot breeder Harry Sissen on loan from Mulhouse Zoo, situated near Strasbourg, in France. When he came to Customs to inspect them, Sissen was amazed to find that the female seemed to be a glaucous macaw. On 31 March 1992, London's The Mail on Sunday newspaper contained a fascinating full-page account of this remarkable episode written by Howard Smith, which included an excellent colour photograph snapped by Lynn Hilton that clearly portrayed the sea-green colour of the bird's breast and head, with indications of brown markings present upon its throat.

The Mail on Sunday newspaper's article, featuring Lynn Hilton's colour photo of the Mulhouse Zoo mystery macaw – please click to enlarge for reading purposes (© The Mail on Sunday/Howard Smith/Lynn Hilton – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational, review purposes only)

Subsequent to its arrival in Britain, this extraordinary specimen was scrutinised by at least two leading parrot experts, Robin Pickering and Joseph Cuddy – among the very few people to have examined every one of the eight preserved skins known to be from genuine glaucous macaws, housed in various of the major museums across the globe. Neither of them reportedly had any doubt regarding the bird's identity as a bona fide A. glaucus.

Moreover, Peter Colston, then scientific officer at the London Natural History Museum's ornithological department at Tring in Hertfordshire, was shown photos of the bird by The Mail on Sunday, and he agreed that its head was reminiscent of the glaucous macaw's. However, he also pointed out that it did not seem to possess this species' characteristic sooty facial feathers.

A second glaucous macaw skin, preserved as a taxiderm specimen, at Huub Veldhuijzen van Zanten-Naturalis Biodiversity Center (© Huub Veldhuijzen van Zanten-Naturalis Biodiversity Center/Wikipedia - CC BY-SA 3.0 licence)

At present, therefore, Sissen's import remains unidentified. It may yet prove to be nothing more than a Lear's macaw (albeit an aberrant, green-tinged one).

Yet if it really is a glaucous macaw and can be demonstrably shown to be one (perhaps by comparative DNA tests), and if other incognito specimens hiding in plain sight can also be found and unmasked, then the only sizeable species of South American bird believed to have become extinct since this continent's western colonisation will be extinct no longer, and the search for the sea-green scarlet pimpernel of the parrot world will finally be at an end.

Glaucous macaw painting, from Monographia Psittacorum, 1832, authored by Johann Georg Wagler (public domain)

Having said that, expeditions by ornithologists during the 1990s to southwestern Paraguay, a potential hideaway for surviving glaucous macaws, failed to uncover any evidence for its continuing existence. Only the region's oldest residents had any recollection of this species, which was apparently last confirmed there more than a century earlier, back in the 1870s. Conversely, the late George Smith, a naturalist who was very informed regarding the history of the glaucous macaw, believed that it still survived in remote areas of Bolivia, where trappers encountered by him were able to identify it.

Smith also noted that when he had flown over these areas, there were vast stands of palm trees, "as far as they eye could see", but these have still never been scientifically investigated, so who knows what secrets they may be hiding? Tellingly, the IUCN still categorises this enigmatic bird as Critically Endangered rather than as Extinct.

A beautiful modern-day rendition of the glaucous macaw by Rafael Nascimento (© Rafael Nascimento)

Moreover, if we wish to confirm that the longterm concealment of a brightly-hued parrot species of stature in South America is by no means impossible or even unparalleled in modern times, we do not have to look far to offer a very apposite precedent, no further in fact than one of the glaucous macaw's very own congeners – Lear's macaw.

The existence of this famously elusive species first became known to science in 1831, when Victorian bird painter and nonsense-rhymes writer Edward Lear painted a macaw of unrecorded origin that he believed to be (and duly labelled as) a hyacinth macaw but which was later recognised to be a separate species. In 1856, it was named in honour of him by French biologist Charles L. Bonaparte (although some authorities also refer to it as the indigo macaw).

Edward Lear in 1867, and his exquisite painting from 1831 of the macaw species named after him (public domain)

Yet despite having been represented in aviaries worldwide since 1831, Lear's macaw remained a major conundrum to ornithologists for over a century - because no-one knew where these captive specimens had actually been caught. Not even their country of origin, much less their precise provenance, was known. Indeed, a prevalent view back then was that this species might even be extinct in the wild - always assuming that it was a valid species, and not a hybrid of the hyacinth macaw and the glaucous macaw, as some researchers were beginning to suggest.

In 1964, the late Dr Helmut Sick, a German-born Brazilian ornithologist, began an intensive programme of searches for this mysterious missing macaw in a bid to solve its riddles once and for all. It was a programme that would take 14 years before success arrived, but arrive it did. On 31 December 1978, he spied three Lear's macaws in a little-explored area of Brazil's northeastern Bahia region, called the Raso de Catarina. And in January 1979 he sighted a flock of about 20, proving that it was not a hybrid form. These turned out to be part of a population numbering just over 100 birds.

Lear's macaws (public domain)

Moreover, in June 1995, a team of Brazilian biologists discovered a second population of Lear's macaw, several hundred miles from the first one, consisting of 22 birds on a nesting cliff. By 2010, the total wild population was estimated to be just over 1,000 birds, and it is also represented in captivity.

Although only three species of Anodorhynchus macaw are formally recognised nowadays, there was once an alleged fourth, and even a fifth, member of this genus. The fourth, of which more is known, is (or was) the purple macaw, the fifth the black macaw.

A hyacinth macaw, revealing its plumage's much more intense blue colouration in comparison with the more turquoise counterpart exhibited by Lear's macaw (public domain)

As noted earlier here, in terms of plumage colouration this genus's official trio of species can be arranged in a very neat gradation, beginning with, as its name indicates, the intense hyacinth-blue shade of the hyacinth macaw, then moving subtly into the slightly more turquoise-blue hues of Lear's macaw, which then transforms further, yielding a paler, turquoise-green or sea-green shade, in the aptly-named glaucous macaw.

But what if this colour gradation were also extrapolated in the opposite direction? That is, in addition to the hyacinth macaw's striking blue hue faintly greening into turquoise and thence even more so into a glaucous tone, how about deepening it, to yield a macaw whose plumage was a darker, predominantly violet or purple shade?

The purple macaw, as depicted by celebrated bird artist John G. Keulemans in Lord Walter Rothschild's classic work Extinct Birds, 1907 (public domain)

If this quartet of macaws were then arranged in a continuous linear spectrum of transforming colour, running from purple into blue into turquoise-blue into pale turquoise-green, the line-up would be: purple macaw, hyacinth macaw, Lear's macaw, and glaucous macaw. Of course, the purple macaw is purely hypothetical – isn't it?

In reality, such a bird may actually have existed – so if you'd like to read about the purple macaw's fascinating history, as well as that of a possible fifth Anodorhynnchus species, the even more obscure black macaw, as prepared by me exclusively for ShukerNature, all you need to do is click here!

A pair of digitally-created purple macaws discovered online (original source presently unknown to me – reproduced here on a strictly non-commercial Fair Use basis for educational, review purposes only)

This ShukerNature article is very greatly expanded and updated from my original 1993-published coverage of the glaucous macaw contained in my book The Lost Ark, which in turn was the first in my trilogy of groundbreaking, definitive tomes collectively documenting new and rediscovered animals of the 20th and 21st Centuries.

Incidentally, please note that my glaucous macaw coverage did not reappear in either of The Lost Ark's two sequel tomes – The New Zoo (2002) and The Encyclopaedia of New and Rediscovered Animals (2012). So now, and constituting yet another ShukerNature exclusive, this is the first time that it has been reprinted (and updated) in more than 25 years.