Crane crash

It might be a bit of an old-fashioned attitude, but if you are going to have national symbols, then surely how you choose to look after them is something of a measure of just how much pride you have in your country?

The King Protea is our national flower: it’s bold, it’s admired and revered.
The Springbok is our national animal: known for its agility and speed, synonymous with SA’s rugby wins.
The Blue Crane is our national bird: we’re killing it off.

Blue Crane numbers have decreased by between 27% and 49% in the last fifteen years: the patchy data available being indicative of just how little we actually care about what’s happening to these beautiful birds. And perhaps the more worrying aspects of this rapid decline are:
a) the fact that it is likely multi-factorial – with some of those factors being beyond our immediate control, and
b) the fact that over 60% of the remaining Blue Crane population is found in one single, small area – other Overberg wheat belt. Lose that population and really is game over.

As a result, the Blue Crane’s official conservation status has recently been officially changed to reflect this deterioration from Near Threatened to Vulnerable in the newly published Regional Red Data Book of Birds 2025.
Vulnerable reflects a higher category of threat – just below Endangered and Critically Endangered status on the Red List. This means that without significant conservation efforts, these species are likely to become endangered in the near future and face a high risk of extinction in the wild in the medium term.

As mentioned above, there are many reasons suggested as to why we are still losing Blue Cranes in this way. Aside from the problems attributed to climate change – a lack of rainfall (I know, I know) is a key driver for nest failure, and things are only going to get hotter and drier in the Western Cape – farming practices and power lines are also terrible news for Blue Crane numbers.

And while some mitigation has happened over the last decade, we’ve also chosen to build wind farms throughout the Overberg, with seemingly no thought for the Blue Crane. The turbines themselves are known for being dangerous to birds, and the additional transmission lines right through the most sensitive habitat areas of our national bird obviously increase the risks.

Collision with power lines remains the main threat to Blue Cranes, and ongoing mitigation is necessary, especially as new power lines are added to connect renewable energy to the grid. This is particularly a threat in the Renewable Energy Development Zones of the Overberg and Karoo.

Thankfully, there is now precedent for blocking construction of wind farms, but with South Africa’s ongoing issues with a stable electricity supply (and the disgusting pollution up North), there are many proponents for the expansion of wind power, as well. And the best places for those farms as far as wind goes, is right through Blue Crane habitats.

The fact that the Blue Cranes nest in wheat fields means that they are susceptible to danger from agricultural practices, such as mechanical implements (ploughing, harvesting), and the use of chemicals – targeted against rodents and other pests like geese.

Research has shown that Blue Crane breeding success in the Overberg has halved since the last published study 30 years ago. Pairs of Cranes now raise on average just 0.55 fledglings. You don’t need a maths qualification to see that those numbers will never sustain the population – especially with additional pressures such as power lines and the like.

There is some good news, some glimmers of hope.
Some farmers are displaying some of that apparently missing national pride, and acting as custodians for the Blue Cranes. Special Management Areas like the Nuwejaars Wetlands are connecting like-minded agricultural properties together, establishing safe areas and natural habitat for our wildlife, while still enabling famers to make a decent living.

But these sort of schemes are still a drop in the ocean, both in terms of area, and in terms of reducing the overall, numerous and external threats to the Blue Crane. And unless something – and no, I really don’t know what – is done to prevent this ongoing, dramatic crash in numbers, then in the very near future, we – like Mauritius – are going to have to choose a new national bird.

The Journey

The journey to (or from) Agulhas used to take 2 hours and 40 minutes. Every time. Exactly. You could set your watch by it.
Those days are gone now. Yesterday was close on 4 hours as the outrageous slings and arrows of roadworks, accidents and traffic made life about 1 hour and 20 minutes more difficult than it needed to be.

Once down past Napier though, it’s a whole new world. Open roads, open fields, and wildlife galore. Ostriches, including chicks, storks, baboons, grysbok and even a speedy caracal racing across the road in front of us. And the large evening light, bathing everything in watery primrose yellow.

I should have stopped so we could see and share these things (the caracal was long gone though, sorry), but every time, the destination takes precedent over the trip down here. It’s sad, because I think we miss a lot that way, but we either want to get here, or we don’t want to leave here, meaning that we have limited time to get back: stopping is not a favourable option.

Thus, what’s needed is a week here, and a planned slow drive down. Taking 8 hours to get here when you have fewer than 48 hours before you’re due home – ready to resume normal, stressful life – seems ridiculously wasteful. But 8 hours of different experiences to begin a week of relaxation seems to make complete sense.

So now all I need is a week off work. One that I’m not spending elsewhere, doing other exciting things, that is.

Sadly, that’s not happening anytime soon, but hey, we shouldn’t complain about such #FirstWorldProblems, right?

Analogue

The Southern Cape (and I’m talking specifically of the Overberg, Theewaterskloof and Cape Agulhas municipalities here) is so beautiful right now. Lush, green farmland full of blue cranes, fields of bright yellow canola flowers, rolling hills and the all the fun of the fair with the R316 dipping and curving through the landscape.

There are other great driving songs out there, of course. But a-ha’s Analogue was playing as we headed past the infamous Houtkloof turn just north of Napier, and it needs sharing.

For the UK viewers out there (presumably in… the UK), I think the video should come with some sort of warning about setting off fireworks in an oil refinery; namely – don’t.