
Reasons for hope
Posted onJanuary 20, 2025byRosie Heffernan|Canada's New Noah, Canada's New Noahs, News and Events, Rosie Heffernan
Since 1988, the Canada’s New Noah program has provided young conservation biologists in Canada the opportunity of a lifetime. Each year, WPC selects a dedicated biologist from applicants across Canada to undertake a 3-month course at the Durrell Conservation Academy in the U.K. followed by a 6-month internship on the islands of Mauritius and Madagascar in the Indian Ocean. This is an opportunity unlike any other for young Canadians to learn firsthand how the world’s most successful conservation recovery programs are managed and to bring this knowledge and experience back to improve Canada’s conservation capacity. Rosie Heffernan is WPC’s 33rd Canada’s New Noah and reports on her experiences and how she will apply them on return to Canada. The Canada’s New Noah Program is generously supported by the Alan & Patricia Koval Foundation.
I write this final blog as I sit aboard the flight that will take me back to the small Canadian town I left 11 months ago. I thought I was going on this journey to find out how to save the world, but I return with the understanding that it’s already being done.
There is no denying that we are living in dark times, and sometimes, taking stock of the world hurts. Working as a wildlife conservationist in the midst of the world’s sixth mass extinction, against the backdrop of an ever-worsening climate crisis, I will be the first to admit that there are days when I struggle to hold onto hope. But, if there is one thing this journey has taught me, it’s that for all the darkness in the world, there is a corresponding light, and hope can be found in the most unlikely places.
As my plane takes off and the outline of Mauritius recedes out the window, I think about all the reasons for hope I have seen on this amazing island over the past six months. Mauritius is home to some of the world’s most successful conservation stories, where the Mauritius Kestrel, Echo Parakeet, and Pink Pigeon were brought back from the brink of extinction.
Hope can definitely be found at the top of the world, checking out views like this with friends like these. (Photo: R. Heffernan).
As we fly higher, a tiny little dot just north of Mauritius becomes visible, which I imagine to be Round Island. Over the past fifty years, Mauritius Wildlife Foundation and Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust have worked to reverse the impacts of human settlement by closing the island to the public, eradicating invasive mammals, and using conservation translocations to span gaps in the ecosystem. Most notably, Aldabra tortoises were brought from Seychelles to aid with seed dispersal, an ecosystem service once provided by native Mauritian tortoises before they were hunted to extinction.
One of the most mischievous Aldabra tortoise residents, probably about to knock a water pipe out of place or chew a hole in a rain barrel. (Photo: R. Heffernan).
Thanks to these efforts, Round Island is once more able to provide refuge for a variety of endemic reptiles, plants, and seabirds. As for the small part I was fortunate enough to play in this 50-years-ongoing project, I assisted with monitoring populations of geckos, lizards, and seabirds; planting and caring for native plants; and controlling outbreaks of invasive plant species in restored areas. What a unique privilege it has been to participate in one of the world’s most successful restoration stories!
Nesting Red-trailed tropicbird dutifully incubating their egg. (Photo: R. Heffernan).
Banding seabirds at the edge of the world is as exhilarating as it sounds! (Photo: R. Heffernan).
As much as I gave to Round Island, I was given so much more in return. In fact, I’m walking away from this journey with gifts spilling out of my arms: lifelong friendships, amazing mentors, and countless opportunities to learn new skills, such as PIT tagging, bird banding, invasive species management, plant propagation, and so many more. I can’t wait to pay these gifts forward to the next project I work on. This field is a never-ending cycle of giving and receiving.
As we head westward, Madagascar comes into view, a much larger island, home to six other conservation projects operating through the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust. In my time here, I had the privilege of visiting the captive breeding facility for three critically endangered turtle species, including one which is regarded as the most endangered tortoise in the world. The commitment of the team responsible for this project, including breeding and rearing the captive turtles, and working with local communities to promote sustainable livelihoods and protect nests in the wild, is truly awe-inspiring.
Eventually we pass over the Channel Islands, starting with the southernmost island, Jersey, where my journey began. Living and studying at Durrell Conservation Academy, I undertook a postgraduate program in Endangered Species Management, and was able to fill important personal knowledge gaps in mapping software, statistical analysis, and research design.
Durrell Conservation Academy, where my journey began. (Photo: R. Heffernan).
I made it my goal to hike the 70km circumference of the island during my time in Jersey. I found hope in the first wildflowers of spring and in the golden illumination of the coastal paths at sunset. (Photo: R. Heffernan).
My cohort originated from eight different countries, where they have since returned to continue writing parallel stories of hope. From protecting the world’s remaining 300 Cross River apes from poachers and hunters in Cross River National Park, Nigeria, to tracking sea turtles across the islands of Indonesia to fight the shell trade, from parakeet protection in Costa Rica, to Arabian oryx reintroduction in Oman, the list goes on and on.
I lived and studied with 12 reasons for hope for three inspiring months. (Photo: R. Heffernan).
Soon I’ll land in Canada with a new appreciation for the amazing work being done here, and a new repertoire of knowledge and skills to contribute. Studying and working in conservation in an international context has allowed me to experience the ubiquity of the indomitable human spirit, and has shown me that none of these inspiring stories take place in isolation from one another.
Instead, they are interconnected, woven together like a vast mycorrhizal network, operating silently and significantly beneath our feet.
Here’s what I have learned: light and hope are a lot quieter and more slippery to hold onto than darkness and doom. But they exist everywhere; you just have to keep your ear to the ground and build on what you find. I wrote this blog to remind myself, when things get dark, of all the light that exists in the world, and I would love if it could help someone else remember that, too. If hope can be found on the back of a giant tortoise, surely it can be found (or created!) in each of our backyards.
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