Lots of 'Apapanes on the Big Island

Chasing Hawaiian honeycreepers has become a fixture of my trips to the Aloha State. After all, bird watching is my passion and the islands are home to some amazing endemic species. My last several trips to Maui and Kauai introduced me to several members of this bird family, one that has struggled against extinction for centuries. One individual that has fared better than others, the 'apapane, was nonetheless a difficult subject to photograph until I finally arrived on the Big Island in February.

I've seen 'apapanes before, and even got a shot of my first one in a native tree, the 'ohi'a lehua, near the parking lot at Pu'u O Kila Lookout on the island of Kauai. I saw several more along the nearby Pihea Trail that begins with spectacular views of the Na Pali Coast below and then leads deeper into Kokee State Park. However the constantly flitting birds were impossible targets for good pictures.

Actually a different bird was in my sights that day: the i'iwi. But I later learned that at only 4,000 feet in elevation, there was almost no chance of me seeing this mostly scarlet bird with its long, curved orange bill. The i'iwi is especially susceptible to avian diseases borne by mosquitos that accompanied the Europeans who started visiting the islands late in the eighteenth century. It's not exactly clear how high is cool enough to prevent the pesky insect from invading the bird's habitat, but the first mile of Pihea Trail is no longer a viable place for i'iwis to live.

While I was depressed over the i'iwi and disappointed about the 'apapane, I did capture some shots of another honeycreeper, the 'amakihi, a yellow-colored variety. So at least two members of this bird family are surviving in mosquito country and are possibly even adapting an immunity to associated diseases. In addition I saw an 'elepaio, a cinnamon-colored monarch flycatcher native to the island. The seemingly happy juvenile seemed as curious about me as I was of it.

Over two hundred miles away, on Maui, I finally succeeded in not only seeing but photographing the i'iwi. On two separate visits to Hosmer Grove, in Haleakala National Park, the honeycreeper was easy to locate as he used his specialized beak to slurp nectar from the blossoms of 'ohi'a lehua trees. Since the forest lies at 7,000 feet in elevation, there is no risk from mosquitoes. On my last visit in October, I also saw a distant 'amakihi. Surprisingly, I've never seen the 'apapane, the most abundant and resilient of all the surviving Hawaii honeycreepers, in that park or anywhere else on Maui.

However my luck was soon to change on my trip to the Big Island in February. My itinerary included two nights in the rain forest, at Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, where Kilauea's lava was simmering deep in its caldera. The vast park encompasses an area almost as large as the island of Oahu, ranging from over 13,000 feet at the summit of Mauna Loa to sea level at the Pacific Ocean. Much easier to reach are the roads and trails near the visitor center and around Kilauea. At around 4,000 feet in elevation, they're forested with native trees like the 'ohi'a lehua creating excellent native bird habitat.

It's no understatement to say that Volcanoes is teeming with 'apapanes. No sooner had I parked the rental car and walked the short distance to the Art Gallery, than I saw a flock of three or four of the birds in a nearby grove of blooming 'ohi'a lehua trees. If it hadn't been for the rain, and, well, not having my camera with me, I'd like to think I'd have captured some excellent shots. A little while later, checked in to my second floor room at the Kilauea Lodge a short distance outside the park, 'apapanes called from the tree next to the covered balcony. I blissfully clicked my replies through my zoom lens.

It was quite wonderful, the pervasiveness of this native bird in the local environment. After several days at one of Hawaii's coastal resorts near Kona where introduced species like mynas and cardinals dominated the manicured landscape of hibiscus, bougainvillea, and palm trees, I was catching a glimpse at the possibility of an unaltered corner of the island's wilderness. Of course Kilauea Lodge's grounds were filled with ginger plants, birds of paradise, and Cook pine trees, so very little of Hawaii is not overrun by non-native flora and fauna.

Over two days the 'apapane became a sort of theme or mascot for that segment of the trip. (I was in hot lava country so there were multiple themes running in this writer's mind.) As I walked around the lodge's verdant grounds on my first morning, I observed other birds, all non-native, like mourning doves, kalij pheasants, and warbling white-eyes. But it was the much more common 'apapane that drew my attention and, sometimes, my breath away.

Bright red with less hints of orange than the i'iwi, the 'apapane has black wingtips and tail feathers. It also has white feathers near its rump. Its black beak, although less pronounced than that of the i'iwi, is long and curved as would be expected for this nectar sipper. The birds' songs and calls were incessant, a range of whistles and tweets in a multitude of melodies.

Later that morning back in the National Park while I walked along the trails above Kilauea's caldera, 'apapanes sang and flocked overhead. At Thurston Lava Tube, I looked for the 'oma'os, 'elepaios, and 'amakihis that the birding guides all described there, but only 'apapanes showed up. In the afternoon, higher in the park, at Kipukapuaulu, which is also known as Bird Park because of the many birds, I hoped to see my first Big Island i'iwi. Nope, only scores of 'apapanes, and a few kalij pheasants. Nearby, I also visited a grove of tree molds, tubular hollows left when trees burned while the lava cooled around them. In the canopy of living trees above, only 'apapanes called in trills and warbles. A drive higher in elevation along Mauna Loa Road brought the same results.

On one long hike to the Kilauea Caldera's rim, closer to Halema'uma'u Crater and it's billowing gases, I spotted an 'amakihi in the distant trees. It was so far away, so indistinct when I reviewed my shots of it on the camera's LCD screen later, that I inadvertently deleted the images. Apparently only 'apapanes were on my mind! Fortunately the pictures of the nene, a native Hawaiian goose, survived my delirium.

I started referring to Kilauea Lodge as 'Apapane Lodge. The National Park's lodge and restaurant, known as Volcano House, was christened 'Apapane House. Crater Rim Trail became 'Apapane Trail and the local segment of Highway 11, 'Apapane Road. Why not name the Kilauea Visitor Center after the bird also?

Of course I wasn't disappointed to see hundreds of the honeycreeper thriving in mostly native rain forests; I was relieved. I was ready with my camera on multiple occasions and got clear shots of a bird that had until then mostly eluded me. After reading and writing about Hawaiian honeycreepers and their often failed struggles against extinction, I was witnessing a success story.