Paul Marinari releases a black-footed ferret into a preconditioning pen

Paul Marinari has been the on-site facility manager of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s Black-Footed Ferret Conservation Center in northern Colorado since 1996, but his focus on animals and commitment to conservation goes back much farther. “I pretty much knew that I wanted to be a biologist when I was in 5th or 6th grade after a report I did on sea slugs,” Marinari says. “As a kid, I was always identifying birds at the bird feeder in the back yard, incubating and hatching quail eggs then releasing them in the wild, going to nature centers.” His interest in animals and science, along with childhood trips to zoos and wildlife parks, “pretty much sealed the deal on my desire to concentrate on biology and anthropology while in college.” After finishing his undergraduate degree, Marinari went to the University of Wyoming for an M.S. in Zoology and Physiology.

Marinari says that his arrival to UW in 1989 was a case of being at the right place at the right time. “Plans to reintroduce ferrets were already well underway” and Marinari was able to work on a black-footed ferret project as he pursued his masters degree. He also worked with other endangered species like marble murrelets and spotted owls, gaining the experience that would eventually help him land the position of on-site facility manager at the Black-Footed Ferret Conservation Center.

A normal workday for Marinari differs depending on the time of year. “Breeding season goes from about January to June, with most of the kits born in May. We then have to make sure the kits survive and that our management doesn’t have a negative impact on overall productivity and survival.” In the fall, each kit has to be prepared for reintroduction by being placed in the outdoor preconditioning pen. Here they learn basic survival skills like how to hunt. At the same time the kits are being trained, Marinari has to start preparing for the next breeding season. It’s a position that is both challenging and rewarding, Marinari says. With the largest captive colony of black-footed ferrets in the world, the Center is responsible for the breeding, safety, and health of 65 to 70 percent of the captive species. The pressure of “knowing that a large part of the international program depends on good kit production numbers at the Center” is a constant in Marinari’s work.

However stressful his job may get, Marinari is grateful for his opportunity to be involved in Black-Footed ferret conservation. “Every day the animals will find some new way to surprise you.” For Marinari, it is a huge reward to know that “all the folks that are working on ferret recovery are making a difference in the world.” His experience has led him to believe that “no matter what folks decide they want to do with their lives, they should find something their passionate about and go for it! Everyone can truly make a difference in shaping the world we live in and the world we leave behind for future generations.” “See what’s going on in [your] own neighborhood.” Marinari says, “and make a positive difference locally.”

SAMANTHA TRULL, Duke Lemur Center

Samantha Trull weighing an infant aye-aye

As a Primate Technician at the Duke Lemur Center, Sam Trull gets to observe, care for, and interact with prosimians all day. Like many others working in wildlife conservation, she has always known that she wanted to work with animals. “I originally wanted to become a veterinarian,” Sam says, “but as I grew older I became more interested in wildlife conservation than veterinary medicine.” She started volunteering at the Duke Lemur Center the summer after her sophomore year of high school, 12 years ago. Getting involved at a young age helped guide her academic path. She earned her B.S. in Zoology at North Carolina State University in 2003, and her M.S. in Primate Conservation at Oxford Brookes University in Oxford England in 2006, all while continuing to work at the Lemur Center. She plans to spend the rest of her life working with primates. “To hear a group of ringtailed lemurs vocalizing, hand a slow loris a worm, or weigh a baby aye-aye is an amazingly fulfilling experience,” Sam says. “I would do anything to make their lives a little better, and I will continue to dedicate my life to the conservation and welfare of lemurs, other primates, and all animals.”

Sam cares for many different species, but her favorite species is the aye-aye (Daubentonia madagascariensis). Sam loves “their curious nature, amazing morphological adaptations and the challenge that they present as a species to take care of in captivity.” Native to Madagascar, aye-ayes are currently critically endangered. They are also considered by many primatologists to be “the most unique primate in the world.” It is Sam’s job to make sure they don’t get bored. “Aye-ayes investigate everything, and because of their continuously growing incisors and extraordinary foraging technique, they require constant environmental enrichment!” This means Sam has to gather huge fallen logs (7-8 feet long and 10 inches in diameter) in the North Carolina forest surrounding the Center, and maneuver the logs into the aye-aye habitats. She places the logs diagonally—as “this more closely resembles how the trees would fall in the wild”—and lets the aye-ayes go wild. “The aye-ayes will spend hours investigating and chewing off pieces of the log looking for cavities where larvae and other insects may reside.”

A typical workday at the Center starts with preparing meals for all the animals in her care for the day. The rest of the day is split up between feeding, cleaning habitats, and special projects like aye-aye enrichment. “Every day is slightly different and sometimes I have to weigh infants, or help with the treatments of a sick or injured animal.”

RYAN WATSON, Al Wabra Wildlife Preservation

Ryan Watson with a Spix’s macaw

“For me, what I do for a living is more than just a job, it is my lifestyle,” says Ryan Watson, the Blue Macaw Coordinator at Al Wabra Wildlife Preservation in Doha, Qatar. Watson lives on-site at Al Wabra, where he works six days a week managing private captive breeding programs for several macaw species. But for Watson, the personal and professional are intertwined even beyond his living where he works: he met his wife through the Lear’s Macaw Recovery Project, which they are both involved with. A field biologist, she also lives and works at Al Wabra. “A lot of our time outside of work is spent discussing our future plans to continue conservation and research work with blue macaws,” he says.

For someone whose career and home life are so interconnected, it’s not surprising that Watson’s passion for his work is deep-seated. “My interest in wildlife conservation first began approximately 25 years ago when I watched a 60 Minutes story about the African rhino poaching crisis,” he says. The senseless killing of the animals for their horns left a strong impression on him, and he remembers “wishing that there was something I could do to help save them.”

Though Watson became interested in animal conservation early on, he also recounts the particular incident that inspired him to work with birds specifically. As a young boy in Australia, Watson had the experience of having a captive red-tailed black cockatoo fly to his arm and sit on his shoulder. “At first I was quite terrified that such a large bird with a powerful beak might inflict some damage, but … I let the gentle creature fly to me and walk up to my shoulder. That experience is what really ignited my passion for birds and is one I will most probably never forget,” he says.

Throughout his childhood, Watson kept and bred various bird species. Later, he went on to work at hand-rearing facility called Birdworld, and then became a bird-keeper at the Adelaide Zoo in western Australia. From there, he went on to work for several other organizations including the Keauhou Bird Breeding Center in Hawaii, and earned a postgraduate degree in ornithology from Charles Sturt University in Australia. Watson’s path to his current position at Al Wabra took him across the globe, where he worked with various species of birds and gained experience in conservation efforts. It was while he was working for the Echo parakeet recovery program in Mauritius that
the position of Blue Macaw Coordinator for Al Wabra Wildlife Preservation was advertised globally. “I had long wanted to be involved with recovery efforts for the Spix’s macaw, a species who’s tragic story I had been following since the 1990’s, so I applied for the position and thankfully was offered the job.”

In the course of his career, Watson has learned that law and legislative policy are as important as the hands-on work he does directly in animal conservation. “The most important changes need to occur at policy level,” he says, “so during an election, choose to vote for a candidate who takes environmental issues seriously.”

At Al Wabra, part of Watson’s job is ensuring that he “make[s] the best possible pairing recommendations and decisions which are likely to lead to breeding success.” It’s no simple task, but Watson faces the job’s challenge with a wealth of passion and experience.

Everyone loves macaws. Playful, intelligent, beautiful, they are the stars of parrot parks and zoos, and the cherished pets of devoted owners around the world. All of which makes them prime targets for poachers, who can make enormous profits from illegal sales of the birds. Thousands are smuggled from the wild each year, and many die in the process.

In the forests of South America, several species of macaw are severely endangered. But there is hope on the horizon. Dr. Charlie Munn, a wealthy American who is also a leading ornithologist and world expert on parrots, has begun a campaign to promote eco-tourism as a means of saving the birds. Employing former poachers as conservationists, and providing locals with the means to start and maintain a trade in tourism instead of smuggling, he’s betting that instead of buying birds, their fans will pay to see them in the wild.

NATURE’s The Real Macaw offers bird lovers the rare opportunity to enjoy these beautiful birds in their natural habitats rather than in pet stores and cages.

Online content for The Real Macaw was originally posted February 2004.

Some are big, some are small. They wear feathered coats of amazing colors, or drab plumage that wouldn’t turn a head. Some are loud and raucous, others remarkably mellow. They are the world’s macaws — long tailed parrots that are both greatly beloved — and terribly endangered. And, for the most part, poorly understood.

Macaws are the world’s largest parrots. There are 17 different kinds, ranging in size from the magnificent cobalt-blue hyacinth, which can weigh in at 3 pounds, to the petite Hahns, which might weigh just a tenth as much. Whatever their size, however, macaws are marked by long, graceful tails that can be longer than their bodies. And, in general, larger macaws are more brightly colored than their smaller cousins.

Macaws can be found throughout Central and South America, from wet tropical rainforests to dry scrub lands. But many species prefer to be near rivers or streams; indeed, some of the most famous macaw-watching spots are muddy banks, where macaws apparently gather to harvest minerals and salt from the soil.

For heftier meals, macaws tackle everything from fruit and nectar to seeds and nuts. Often, they will forage over vast distances to find trees flush with ripe pickings. And they can be choosy about nesting sites, taking time to find just the right cavity in a tree or bank.

Scientists, however, know remarkably little about macaw family life. Some believe they mate for life, and produce just a few young a year. Some may live for 60 years or more.

Increasingly, however, they aren’t getting the chance. Habitat loss and hunting are taking a terrible toll. While a few of the 17 macaw species are still abundant, more than half a dozen are considered critically threatened or endangered. There are believed to be less than 3,000 hyacinth macaws in the wild, for instance, and less than 1,000 red-fronted and blue-throated macaws. Just a single Spix’s macaw may still be in the wild. The glaucus macaw is probably already extinct.

Conservationists are racing the clock to prevent that fate from overtaking other macaws. They are monitoring populations and weighing chicks — often working high in dangerous treetops. Others are recording habits and behavior, looking for clues to designing better protection strategies or reserves. Its often exacting, but necessary, work. “Unless we understand their wild biology,” says macaw expert Charles Munn, who is featured in NATURE’s The Real Macaw “we may not be able to avoid the extinction of species after species of these spectacular New World parrots.”

Deep in an isolated tropical forest, a small group of tourists creeps along a muddy trail. Suddenly, their guide gestures up. It takes a moment for the visitors to focus. Then, they see them: A flock of colorful, long-tailed macaws that draw gasps of pleasure and surprise. “Unforgettable,” gushes one of the crowd.

It’s not your ordinary vacation. But such wildlife adventures are becoming increasingly popular for “eco-tourists” interested in seeing and saving some of the planet’s most endangered animals. And as NATURE’s The Real Macaw shows, eco-friendly tourism may ultimately be key to protecting the world’s 17 species of macaws, nearly half of which are already considered seriously endangered.

The macaw’s problems are clear. Some species are losing their forest habitats to logging, farming, or development. Others are hunted by pet traders, who can make a financial killing in the global caged bird trade. The chicks of several kinds of “blue” macaws, for instance, can fetch thousands of dollars each from collectors in industrialized nations. A Lear’s macaw, of which there are fewer than 200 left in the world, can bring up to $60,000.

Now, conservationists are trying to create equally hefty financial incentives for leaving the birds and their habitat alone. One strategy is to use tourism fees to buy up and protect patches of forest where visitors can see the birds. Such reserves have sprung up around the world, including in Central and South American nations were macaws live. Some even have built lodges that cater to guests fixated on seeing a macaw — and employ local people who might once have had little choice but to clear the forest.

Another, more controversial, strategy is to transform macaw hunters into protectors, by hiring them as guides or wardens. It makes some sense: The poachers are often macaw experts, and know their habits inside and out. After all, their livelihoods once depended on finding the birds. And who would know better how to head off a new generation of hunters?

It’s too early to know whether such strategies will work everywhere. Experts say they are just one part of the solution that must also include strong enforcement of conservation and pet trade laws, far-sighted economic development, and education.

But one thing is already clear: The number of tourists interested in more than just another trip to the beach is growing. Last year, tourism experts say travelers spent more than $20 billion on eco-trips and related ventures. That’s still just a small share of the $500 billion-plus tourism marketplace. But in many regions, even small sums can make a big difference to conservation efforts.

Of course, as eco-tourism’s popularity grows, some travel operators have tried to cash in — without funneling benefits back to local communities or wildlife. So if you want to make sure your travel dollar is doing extra duty, do your homework. Ask exactly how your spending will benefit wildlife, and how local people benefit. Make sure that guides aren’t “killing the golden goose” — by bringing in so many visitors, for instance, that rare birds are scared away from their home ranges.

Macaw conservationists are hoping that, in the long run, such educated travelers can create “win-win-win” situations, where local people make a living, visitors get the thrill of lifetime, and the macaws have an opportunity to live in peace.