I have to confess that I rarely enjoy birding in montane cloud forests. The birds that live in these mountainous, cool and humid habitats are masters of disguise, usually passing themselves off as a leaf or other form of foliage. But if I want to see antpittas – elusive, ground-dwelling birds that rarely show themselves – then I have no choice.
So, on a cool, cloudy morning my guide, Juan Carlos Crespo, Fredy Ramón Castillo, a local ranger, and I are standing on a steep, muddy path close to Tapichalaca Lodge, 2,500 metres above sea level in the eastern Andes, waiting for the jocotoco antpitta to emerge from the undergrowth.
Fortunately, antpittas have a soft spot for food, especially the large, juicy earthworms Castillo has placed on a low branch nearby. He calls the bird, with increasingly loud and urgent shouts of “venga, venga!” (“come on, come on!”). The minutes tick by, until I begin to wonder if this is a lost cause.
Then, out of nowhere, a plump, thrush-sized bird with a chestnut back, grey front, black crown and white face-patch materialises just a few feet away. It proceeds to gulp down the earthworms as if it has not eaten for days.
I have seen a lot of different birds, but never one that so changed the course of bird conservation. In November 1997, a group led by the influential US ornithologist Robert Ridgely was exploring this area of southern Ecuador to see what they could find.
As they ascended a forest trail at dawn, they heard the sound of a bird in the far distance. As Ridgely recalled many years later, “It had this crazy call, sounding like an owl; but we had no idea what it was, and to be honest I never thought we would find out.”
Ridgely walked ahead of the group, and heard the sound much closer than before. He recorded the call and played it back to the mystery creature, which came crashing through the dense bamboo, right out into the open.
“I knew right away that this was something really special, which no one apart from the local people had ever seen – an entirely new species to science.” It was, in fact, one of the greatest ornithological breakthroughs of the late 20th century: while new species are sometimes discovered, they are rarely so large, noisy and so obviously different from other members of their family.
Talking to local farmers, Ridgely discovered that they were familiar with the bird, which they had named “jocotoco” to represent its loud, barking call. Two years later, the species was officially described, and named the jocotoco antpitta; the scientific name, Grallaria ridgelyi, commemorating its proud discoverer.
Ridgely soon realised that if the bird was to be saved from extinction its forest home needed to be urgently protected. He and a group of like-minded friends created an organisation dedicated to saving the bird and its habitat, raising funds from donors in the US and Europe to buy and restore the land. In 1998 the Jocotoco Foundation was born.
Today, the foundation protects and manages 19 reserves throughout Ecuador, covering about 50,000 hectares (193 sq miles), and manages a further 82,000 hectares of privately and communally owned land. Together, these sites are home to more than 1,350 species of birds – that’s 80% of all those found in Ecuador, and an astonishing one in eight of all bird species on the planet, as well as many other plant and animal species. The foundation also works closely with nearby communities, employing local people as park rangers – many of whom grew up on the land they now protect – and through jobs in wildlife tourism.
The model for the foundation’s reserves is simple and very effective. First, it restores habitat by planting a variety of native trees and other plants, or in some places simply allows the vegetation to regenerate on its own. Park guards, all of whom come from local communities, protect the reserves against illegal incursions such as cattle grazing, logging and poaching, aided by new technology including camera traps and audio recorders.
They also use these to monitor the fortunes of key species, while providing nest boxes to encourage them to breed, making up for the loss of natural tree cavities while the old-growth forests are being restored.
A recent study at Canandé, in the Chocó region of north-west Ecuador, revealed that even after deforestation, nature can recover very rapidly. The study showed that in just three decades – a single human generation – of being managed for biodiversity, formerly cleared lands have recovered 90% of the biomass – the weight of all animals – and 90% of the number of species found in nearby mature forests. While the new mix of species is not fully the same as in a mature forest, 75% of the original species present in an old-growth forest have returned.
Mike Parr, the president of the American Bird Conservancy, has no doubt about the importance of this work. “Beyond safeguarding Ecuador’s rarest birds, migrating species and incredible overall biodiversity, Jocotoco’s strategic integration of ecotourism, public awareness, community engagement and scientific research are world class. They have done an amazing job covering the previously unprotected endangered species of Ecuador.”
During recent visits to Ecuador I have visited 10 of the foundation’s reserves, including those in the Chocó region north-west of Quito and Copalinga in the Amazon foothills, along with the Los Petreles reserve on San Cristóbal Island in the Galápagos, a refuge for a critically endangered seabird, the Galápagos petrel.
On a visit to Buenaventura reserve, a restored cattle ranch in the western foothills of the Andes, we went in search of an even rarer bird: the El Oro parakeet. This charismatic parrot was only discovered as recently as 1980, and has a tiny home range, with fewer than 1,000 individuals.
Another early start took us to an open area of grassland and scattered trees where the birds are known to gather. Moments later, we heard a raucous call, and there they were: several flocks totalling about 20 of these emerald-green birds, the males with a distinctive red forehead.
But even this memorable moment was eclipsed by my visit to the Chakana nature reserve, more than 4,000 metres above sea level in the páramo grasslands of the high Andes – yet just an hour south-east of Quito. On an unexpectedly fine and sunny day, against a stunning backdrop of the snow-capped Cotopaxi volcano, we enjoyed closeup views of the Ecuadorian hillstar, a specialist high-altitude hummingbird, along with nine Andean condors soaring right around us, before they rose high into the clear blue sky.
Numbers of the Andean condor, the world’s largest flying bird by a combination of weight and wingspan, have fallen rapidly in recent years, due mainly to deliberate poisoning. But here, these mighty raptors are now returning to their ancestral home.
Dr Martin Schaefer, chief executive of Jocotoco, believes that even in these dark times there is room for optimism. “The power to restore what we have lost is in our hands.”
Ian J Davidson, Americas regional director for BirdLife International, agrees. “By creating a network of protected habitat ‘arks’, Jocotoco has given these remarkable species a genuine chance not only to endure, but to recover and expand beyond their remaining strongholds.
“Their work stands as a global conservation success story, an inspiring example of what determination, science and long-term stewardship can achieve for nature.”
At a time when President Trump has withdrawn US government funding for conservation projects around the world, the Jocotoco Foundation is a classic model of how scientists and local people can work together to save endangered birds and the precious places where they live.
