Our Aride life is over.

It is hard to believe, but our time on Aride has come to an end, although slightly premature, we have been away for a total of 20 months and I can’t quite believe where it has gone. Everyone said it would fly – and it has!

As we made our last boat launch into some difficult surf and rough sea, it was impossible to think that this was going to be the last and that our time in the tropics had finished. As I looked back to see the pairs of fairy terns and tropic birds flying along the beach, the frigate birds soaring over head, the noddys and sooty terns flying alongside us, I had to wipe away a tear. I caught the eye of our boat driver and ranger, Bryan, and I had to look away, I was saying good bye to what had been an amazing period in my life, although very difficult at times, it was a part of my life that will stay with me for ever, both the highs and the lows.

The journey across the 6 nautical miles to Praslin was full of wildlife treats, from flying fish to shearwaters. Although cloudy, rough and wet, the trip was warm and I thought about how strange it will be to be going back to a colder climate and one where clothes and shoes are a necessity. We were dropped at the beach stop for the airport and our heavy cases, and unconventional luggage in the shape of fishing rods and ukulele seemed very out of place as we balanced them on the fallen tree out of the sand. The flight across to Mahe gave us our last view of Aride, that small 73ha where we had spent the last 20 months of our life, this was the start of the long trip back to the UK and a new way of life.
As I write this we have been back to the UK just a week, with some much needed time to catch up with family and of course cheese and fruit. It is very different life and as I look back the differences are both good and bad. There is a lot to do as you would imagine, from becoming reacquainted with your clothes and stuff to trying to pick up where we left off nearly 2 years ago.

It was lovely to walk back into our house, which was in excellent condition, as we breezed through the kitchen door and set foot on the wooden floors, the colours rang our clean and bright like they had always been and I had forgotten how special a place this was, how much work had gone into it and much love and effort had been needed to make it this way. The sun shone through the arched kitchen window and lit up the yellow walls and made the room sparkle.
Re establishing our selves has been a constant process of rediscovery and one I feel has been a real privilege to do, not many people get chance to take a second look at life through different eyes, to clear how they felt when they left 2 years ago and come back to see it from a different view point, to re discover their old life. There have been many occasions when the reassuring British way of life has felt strikingly good. From the obvious, hot showers when ever you want one, the cleanliness of it all, the clean shower tray, sand free towel, soft carpet under your feet, no sand to brush off your feet before you put socks on or get into bed. To waking up in our south facing yellow bedroom with the sun reflecting on the walls at 5am, not 7am - and the long days, although not warm summer nights yet, the length of day light is fantastic.
There is much, much more, the choice of vegetables and food in the shops, simply the selection of tomatoes; beefy ones, plum ones, cherry ones, on the vine, bog standard ones, organic ones just to name a few, then the same for potatoes; white, red, organic, Somerset white, jackets, new, it is all a bit mind blowing.
I am just starting to get time to catch up with friends and gossip, and enjoy the process of rediscovery, however I suspect that rebuilding life will take a while. Although my time on Aride was the most physically, emotionally and mentally challenging thing I have ever done in my life, I also know for sure that I will really miss the Aride life, and that there will be many times that I will want to swap the safe, well equipped British world with many types of tomato and potato, for a chance to just sit on the Aride beach in a world of my own.

The other side of Aride Island

With the arrival of a night time predator to the island recently, we have been experiencing the other side of Aride – the hill at night. It is unfortunate that the reason is due to the predation of roseate terns by barn owl, but venturing up the hill under the cover of darkness is an experience that is mind blowing. The whole island becomes alive with a completely different set of wildlife to that we experience during the day on the plateau.
Anyone who has chance to visit Aride will leave with the impression that it is literally alive with wildlife. The day time is full of tok toks bouncing from branch to branch, sunbirds nosily chattering in the trees, magpie robins foraging under leaves, lesser and brown noddys ducking and diving in the breeze, tropic and frigate birds soaring on the thermals, whilst fairy terns flutter above your head and crabs and skinks scurry under your feet, often so plentiful it is hard to take a step without fear of squashing them. But at the night it is a different Aride, a walk up the hill is a full sensory overload of a special kind, the sights, sounds and smells are like nothing I have ever experienced. The sounds alone are beyond belief, as the wedgetail shearwaters wale like babies from their burrows and the Audubon shearwaters hurtle past with their wheezing, puffin-like cries, so close you can feel the air movement from their wings on your face. Then there is the bark of the sooty terns as they defend their nests or small chicks which huddle beneath for warmth in the cool night. The quiet pip of the small fluffy youngsters can be heard out of the darkness, a torch trained on the ground essential for the worry of stepping too close.

But it is the large millipede that means every step has to be measured, as the ground is littered with them. Over 6 inches in length, they resemble a prop from a science fiction movie, everywhere you look they glisten in the torch light, as their many legs scale the trees and rocks and carry them slowly along the path.
The shearwaters too leave their burrows and take to the clear ground of the path; many pairs of wedgetails can be seen sitting together like elderly couples, but soon to scurry off at the first sign of light, their short legs doing well to negotiate the uneven terrain, as they skulk once more into the darkness. The Audubons by contrast will remain, sometimes head tucked under wing asleep, or just starting to wake, then to get entangled in your feet as you try to creep quietly by.

Wearing a head torch can sometimes be a little disconcerting, the light may often attract unwanted attention, shearwaters will come careering into your face, lesser noddys and sooty terns startled by the light will flutter in front like bats, drawn helplessly to the brightness. The fairy terns remain undisturbed as they watch us as intruders into their night time world, their all white plumage lighting up as the beam of the torch flashes in front.

The scent of the night flowering cucumber drifts across the path as it opens its dusky yellow flowers into the darkness and the wonderful sweet smell fills the air. This rare flower unique to Aride carpets the ground in some areas and uses the trees to clamber and climb in others.

As we complete our mission and finish our decent we are greeted by the roar of the sea which echoes out of the darkness. The waves crash against the rocks, throwing the smell and taste of the

Breeding Seabird Census

Although the breeding seabird survey is most definitely one of the most physically demanding sides of the job here, it is also one of the most satisfying once it is completed. It is the time when almost every inch of the island is visited to count the breeding seabirds, well that is not exactly true, it just feels like it.

The island has a grid system which is a 50m x 50m grid marked out on the ground, by tape on trees and these points are used to locate plots which are counted. We count five species, brown and lesser noddy, sooty and fairy tern and white-tailed tropic bird.

Ideally we are a team of five people, each taking a species, but more often than not it is less, this year we were a team of four, so it slowed us up a little. The timing of the survey is crucial and has to be completed once all the sooty terns have laid, but before any of them have hatched. Once there are young chicks about disturbing the nests will most likely result in death of the chicks, as they panic and leave their nests running into other territories to be then instantly killed by other adults birds.

With the survey come many challenges; such as having the physical fitness to be able to stick it and see it through, the survey can take between 6 to 8 days dawn until dusk and the terrain is tough, sheer rocks and steep slopes. Having the right temperament and patience in the team to keep it together and deal with tough situations, especially when people are tired, hot and hungry, and become ratty. Having the navigational skills and always trusting your compass when a grid marker becomes elusive, but knowing it has to found and your legs hurt so much that you really don’t relish the prospect of going down the hill to find it, knowing you have got to climb back up again.
There are always highs and lows of the survey, this will be the second one I have completed and both were very different. But the lows in both years were seeing the evidence of poaching, empty sacks and buckets, blood on rocks from birds being killed, smashed eggs, and plots that are deathly quiet as all the birds and their eggs have been taken. Or seeing the effects of Pisonia, the sticky seeds that stick a bird together and make it flightless, the hill claims many casualties and dead carcasses litter the woodland floor.

But then the highs are walking into a plot which is full of sooty terns when there were so many birds the noise is just intense, they all take to the air and fly above your head and it is impossible to hear each other speak.

This year we had a survey point in one corner of an area like this and it wasn't even in the middle, however over the 300m² area that our survey plot covers we recorded 308 sooty terns, so that was more than 1 per m². There was a similar area just south, which was more under the canopy of the woodland and there were 309 in that area. Just to walk in amongst them is such as experience, some birds just sit there looking at you quietly, others squawk like mad and vigorously peck at your feet, whilst the majority just take to the air and gibve off their penetrating‘wide-awake’ call.

The lesser noddys are a real feature too, it is so apparent that they have no concept of human interference at all. Some of the nests are lower than head height, the same as for the fairy terns, you are at eye level with the bird and lower when you look into the nest. But it isn't just one it is many, it just makes me smile when they look back at you with the glazed expression that most of them have when they are incubating and that look as if you haven't seen them and if they keep still then you won't see them.

But it is not just the wildlife, you get to go to areas on the island that you have never been and the views and scenery is out of this world, sheer cliffs that look down to the crystal clear water below and you look on top of the birds you are surveying. On our last day I wrote in my diary:

“We climbed up to the eastern rocks on the southern side in the morning; it was breath taking, right up there with the sooty terns, the view down in to the water and along the beach and back over the hill behind us was stunning. As I looked across the trees behind me it felt a real sense of achievement that we had completed a 50m x 50m grid survey of the island, no mean task. I could have sat at this point for many minutes, but knew it would only be as long as the survey took, which was predominately a survey of brown noddys and of course sooty terns. Before too long people shouted their figures to me and the deed was done and we headed back to the shade of the canopy.”

There will be many memorable aspects of my stay on Aride, some good and of course others not so good, but the breeding bird survey will be there in the good, if fact dam good.
Hmmm but that might well be influenced by knowing that I haven’t got to do a third – don’t think the old knees would cope with it!!

Thanks John (our volunteer) for the photos - which explains why there isn't any of you!

Seychelles Magpie Robin Success Story

Last week we completed the breeding seabird census which is one week of the year that we have to cover the whole island to record breeding numbers. However as well as the expected sights of the woodland floor covered with sooty tern eggs and the canopy full of lesser noddy nests, we encountered something else which was rather special.
We were in an area on the south west corner of the island, under the shade of the trees counting the 5 species of seabird within our 300m² plot, when our two magpie robins that have started to frequent the hill joined us to capitalise on the disturbed ground which we were creating with our feet. We stopped for a moment to enjoy their presence and as we did there was the sound of a third bird higher up in the glade. Now there had been 3 birds at one time that we aware of, using the hill, but this sound was different, we knew it was the sound of a youngster. Quickly we made our way up the hill towards the noise and there sure enough to our amazement was a healthy young magpie robin, still with a bright yellow gape, squawking!
A huge smile came across my face this was such a discovery; on two fronts, it was the first time in the history of the magpie robin on Aride that these birds had ever proven to have bred on the hill and secondly it was the first pair of Aride born magpie robins that had ever successfully produced a fledgling.
I have always felt it to be such a privilege to work with birds such as the magpie robins, and previous to coming to Aride it was only something I would ever dream of, or read about in the RSPB’s Birds magazine. Still an endangered species with just approximately 190 birds on 5 islands in the Seychelles these birds are still up against it. But now here I was witnessing this species pushing out the boundaries, and succeeding against all odds. When I first arrived sky-blue blue was a young female still with her juvenile feathers and now here she was, a mother. But the best part of this story has to be that there has been no need to provide nest boxes or feeding and watering stations for this pair, they have done it alone and the only assistance required from the Aride team is to be but witnesses – wonderful.

One of the best Aride jobs ever - counting roseate tern nests!

Last Sunday it was time for just two people to go into the colony and count the nests and eggs, it was not a job neither Chloe nor I had done before and with the birds very prone to disturbance I was more than a little apprehensive to say the least. But we had discussed our plan of attack and were ready and prepared for the task in hand. We both had a soft spot for these birds and were looking forward to getting up close and personal with them. Due to a lack of food last year none of the birds survived, but this year was looking good we have seen numerous birds flying along the beach, so fingers were crossed that there would be over 500 pairs, which would be amazing.

Roseate terns have become a real rarity in the UK, I remember as a teenager I used to make the trip to Cemlyn Bay on Anglesey that used to a couple of pairs and sometimes I might just to get a glimpse of them, through my inadequate telescope. Here on Aride we have the only woodland nesting colony in the World and the only colony in the granitic Seychelles – so it is of major significance. Hence the excitement...

After breakfast we headed up the hill path, now out of bounds, the sootys had taken up residence in many spots along the path, most of them were defending eggs and they barked at us with their very dog-like call. Beautiful birds, so well defined, clean cut and perfectly built for flight, long wings, short legs and streamline bodies, as we walked through they scuttled out of the way like little old men with their hands behind their backs dressed in their dinner suits. We tried to reassure them, but they were duty to bound come what may to stay with their eggs, some even refused point blank to move and we stepped over them. There seemed to be a good number of birds in the periphery of the woods along the path - so may be it is going to be a good season.

As we diverted off the path, the roseates sounded quiet and for a minute I thought oh know may be the colony has suffered persecution from poachers, but then like magic, their high pitch calls rang through and I caught sight of their pale grey bodies and black heads bobbing about in amongst the leaves. We made a plan to walk to the top of the colony and enter in form the side and keep going across or taking sections in this way. Chloe had prepared recording sheets and small pieces of paper, these were for putting into each nest when it was counted to try and avoid double counting. I nervously collected 50 pieces ready in my hand and we entered the mass of birds. The noise was tremendous, calling and squawking, unlike the sootys gruff call they were high pitched and sounded at times like geese.
We were both in bare feet purposefully so as to ensure that we could be sensitive about where I was putting my feet, at times the eggs were particularly well camouflaged and my walking shoes just made my feet feel big and bulky. I tiptoed through the nests shouting out to Chlo the number of eggs in each and then placing a square of paper beside each. It worked brilliantly and without the paper it would've been pretty much impossible.

A large percentage of the nests only had one egg in, but there were some with two and even three and four - amazing. We worked our way through methodically, breaking the colony into sections so it was manageable. In places the noise from the birds was so loud I had to shout the numbers out for Chlo to record them. The terrain was quite difficult and it was hard work to be nimble, quick, but as accurate as possible and of course avoid breakages.

It was a relief to see that sections of the colony settled down again as we moved on, as the Seychelles skinks were all waiting in the wings as soon as we pushed the birds of their eggs, for an easy meal. We needed to be as quick as we could or otherwise our visit would be detrimental to numbers and that was the last thing we wanted. It surprised me how quickly the birds settled again and they would snuggle down on top of their eggs and with their sharp beaks there was no skink that would take them on.

The area we had cleared was proving to be very successful, the birds were in the area freshly opened up by felling the small Pisonia and also on the tree felled last year, which we had taken the re growth off. The birds would walk up and down this objecting to our presence. Every now and again I would look up for my bent position as I nest counted and just glance at the scene in front of me - it was outrageous, beautiful and such a privilege to be here doing this, although a big nature conservation responsibility. The birds themselves were stunning, their red legs and beaks looked unnatural, but set off perfectly by their black caps and rosy tummies. There was one individual that particularly objected to my presence and invasion on its privacy. It sat on its nest until the last, and in fact almost refused to move at all, located on a small terrace I was at eye-level with her, no more than 2 foot away, with beak open I could see down her throat, I smiled, this was out of this world.

It took us about an hour all told and once completed we sat out of sight at the western end and just watched and listened, the sweat was pouring off me , Chloe did a tally up and we had recorded 524 nests, fantastic. We watched the birds return to their positions sitting back on top of the eggs in amongst the leaves and really nestling in, they looked quite comical, tummies down, tails up. The noise had subsided and it was just a gentle back ground level of high pitched chattering, as they squabbled a little and chattered to each other.

We headed down the hill smiling, as we got to the beach the light was bright after being under the canopy with our heads bent down for so long, it had been a very special day and one I’ll remember for some time, one of the best yet.

Aride in the south east Monsoon

It will be the second south east monsoon that I have the privilege to see on Aride Island, however living on a small island like Aride a change in the wind direction and climate can have a huge effect on life. Aride is known for its difficult landings at the best of times, but the large waves that the south east monsoon winds can create, means launching and landing on this special place is not for the faint hearted.

As the monsoon approaches there are many days when the winds subside and the sea goes like oil, like a sheet of glass it becomes so clear, snorkelling trips are a real treat, the rich shallow, turquoise waters which cover the reef are full of underwater delights from fish to turtles. But we know that during these times what we are experiencing is merely the calm before the storm.

In between the monsoons the wind will fool us, it will change directions many times and will often revert back to the north west, and we enjoy the calm of the southern beach sheltered by the granite outcrop of Aride behind. However when the winds finally turn we prepare for a very different life on the island. It is one of few visitors, and long periods of limited trips to neighbouring shores. We stock up our food cupboards and close the windows and doors to prevent the salt laden winds from penetrating into our possessions and clothes. We know that the island is going to become a very different place for two or three months, as we swop the calm seas, perfect sandy beach and pure blue skies for the big waves, white horses, rocky beach and cloudy unsettled skies.

However this time of year brings visitors of a different kind, the south east monsoon marks the arrival of thousands of seabirds, which come to Aride to breed. At first they arrive in small numbers, as we hear the familiar calls sometimes as early as January. But with the turn of the winds the island becomes alive as the many, many terns come to share this wonderful place and make it their own.

This granite outcrop, a small dot in the Indian Ocean, provides a breeding destination for species such as the sooty tern, brown noddy, lesser noddy and rare roseate tern. Although all a species of tern, they are very different. The sooty tern, has a very distinctive black and white plumage and is very clean cut, with a black cap and mask, black wings and back, they look like gentleman dressed for dinner in their black suits, as they hold their wings behind their backs, . They are built for flight, with long wings and tail and streamline bodies, and their wide-awake call can be heard echoing along the Aride shores.

The brown and lesser noddys are heard all year round in small numbers, but they too come in on mass and they pepper the beach, and with their all brown plumage, they look like shadows on the sand. They spend a lot of time on the beach, where they display, court, collect nesting material and eat coral fragments, as the latter they need for the producing their eggs. They are comical birds, with short legs and a nodding display, they stumble as they try to impress their partners with funny walks and poses and their calls are more crow-like than that of a tern.
Then there is the roseate tern, a very special seabird that breeds on Aride, the island provides the only nesting colony in the granitic islands. Although in appearance quite delicate, they are bulky terns, with pale plumage, distinctive black cap, red legs and feet, with a rosy chest. Probably one of the most special sights on Aride is the flight of the roseate tern along the beach, with the clear Seychelles’ light catching its pink tinged chest.

But all these wonderful birds will be up against difficult times, the breeding season isn’t easy for them. With the only desire to produce young to keep their species going, they face many obstacles. First they need to find a suitable place to nest, which can be fraught with difficulties as habitats change and present new dangers from year to year, and with that there needs to be a food supply. Last season we saw a change in the sea currents, causing a shortage of fish for our avian friends and many of them failed to breed with young dying in the nests. They also need to stay clear of introduced avian predators such as travelling barn owls which may venture across from neighbouring islands such as Praslin.

But it is not just these natural events that they have to face, which can prevent them from completing their natural cycle. Poaching will play a big part too, as people come and steal both sooty tern eggs and birds and crush others such as roseate terns in this quest.

So our avian visitors of the south east monsoon take their chance when they come to Aride to breed. Nature has ways of coping with the natural events, but will poaching force these birds to such low numbers that next year the south monsoon on Aride will be a very different place?

What next - we have now got HOT Water

Aride moves closer towards the 21st century

At last the pipe finally arrived, the pipe that was going to make life on Aride one hell of a lot easier. The pipe in question was the flexible hose that was needed to take water from the well to fill a tank on the hill.

This was the secret to running water!!
It has been a long story about the pipe, but let’s just say we have now got every type of pipe imaginable on the island - from braided hose to PVC waste pipe, and finally the one needed arrived on the latest shipment.

So GUESS WHAT...

We have got running water and not just running water much, much more...
The water project as it is fondly known has been going on for some time, as many things do here in the Seychelles, especially on a remote island. But it was a simple plan and one Melv has been chipping away at since we arrived, it’s not been easy – but perseverance has paid off.
It all started with the moving of the tank, which needed to go up on the side of the hill, this was going to give us the head we needed to feed the houses by gravity.

From the tank we laid the pipe which was going to take water to each of the properties.

When we went back to the UK for our holiday we returned to Aride with a suit case full of plumbing fittings, well over weight it coast an extra £50 to get it on the plane, we even sacrificed chocolate for a bag of copper fittings and a bit of flux!
So we were all set, we had the pump, to take the water from the well and push it up the hill to the tank, but we needed the pipe...

Well the pipe arrived, unfortunately without any fittings, but by hook or by crook we now have running water. For the first time ever Aride Island has running water, pure luxury, no more carrying heavy buckets from the well. We have got a tap...it’s amazing you can wash your hands, wash up, it’s like magic!

But it doesn’t stop there we have got a shower too – no more pouring a bucket over one’s head – no more sand left in your hair, no more trying to make a bucket of water stretch far enough to make sure all the soap and sand have gone – we’ve got a shower!
But that’s not all; we have even got a WASHING MACHINE...

So its goodbye scrubbing brush, welcome Electrolux, clean clothes yippee!!