New
Discoveries:
Species Still Being Discovered
So many of the books I read as a child were about intrepid explorers setting off into the unknown. They faced danger and tough conditions—and they came back with tales of strange and often fearsome creatures, then quite unknown to the Western world. It was hard to separate truth from fiction. There were descriptions of terrifying tribes fiercely attacking white strangers with spears; of cannibals with pointed teeth; of strange hairy creatures, half human and half animal, living deep in the forest. There were terrifying sea monsters that could sink a ship and mermaids luring sailors to a watery death. Gradually myth gave way to fact. The hairy men revealed themselves as great apes, the sea monsters were probably giant squid, and the mermaids were probably sea cows—dugongs or manatees. Linnaeus worked on his classification of the families, genera, species, and subspecies, arranging the animal and plant kingdoms into neat order. Charles Darwin sorted out how they got to be the way they were.
Gradually, during the past fifty years or so, discoveries of new species among the larger mammals and birds have become less and less frequent. But they have not stopped. And for those scientists studying the invertebrate hordes, finding a new species is, for the most part, no big deal—although, as we shall see, there are some pretty exciting finds in this area also. New fish and amphibian species are discovered quite frequently and, as we shall see in this chapter, there are occasional thrilling descriptions of larger creatures found.
I find it incredibly inspirational that even now, near the end of the first decade of a new century, with our planet groaning under the explosion of human populations, with the natural world retreating every day before the onslaught of development, there are still places where countless small creatures are living unseen by prying scientific eyes. This is so even in the developed world, but they are mostly found in remote, hard-to-reach rivers and lakes, mountainous forests, hidden caves, and canyons deep in the ocean. And then, during some expedition, they are spotted, their secret lives revealed. Sometimes the area is so remote, so undisturbed, that even larger birds and mammals can be found as well.
How thrilling to discover something that has never been described—probably the dream of every biologist who ventures into new terrain. When I arrived in Gombe in 1960, it was a very remote place. Apart from a couple of game wardens, few white people had ever been there. And many a time, as I gazed at some brilliant beetle or fly, or found a tiny fish high up near the waterfalls of the small swift streams, I wondered whether, perhaps, I was looking at a species unknown to science. Almost certainly, sometimes I was. For scientists working with plants, invertebrates, and fish are constantly identifying new species, especially now that DNA research enables us to make more rigorous distinctions between similar organisms.
In this chapter, I have selected a few of the discoveries made since the turn of the millennium, including previously undescribed birds and monkeys. They are not, for the most part, new to the people living there, who usually have names for them. But they are new to science, and for those who make such finds this is exciting, as each one adds to our knowledge of life on earth. There is just one problem: When a new species or subspecies is discovered, it has long been held that it can only be described, as for plant species, from so-called type specimens. Which means killing a few of the new creatures and putting their skins or whole bodies in preservative.
In the days when I worked for Louis Leakey at the National Museum (then the Coryndon Museum) in Nairobi, it sickened me to see drawer upon drawer of dead animals—the type specimens of not only invertebrates but also fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, and small and medium-size mammals—and often there would be many of each. In addition, there were all those that had been skinned, stuffed, and put on display—and these of course included lions, chimpanzees, and so on. Such collections in museums around the world represent killings on a massive scale. Indeed, Dr. Thomas Donegan maintains that the killing of individuals for type specimens and for museum displays may have actually contributed to bird extinctions. In 1900, for instance, Beck collected nine of the only eleven individuals he had observed of a large and very rare bird, Polyborus lutosus, endemic to a small island off the coast of Mexico. Since then, this bird has never again been seen in the wild.
To Kill or Not to Kill …
Today, as we face mass extinctions on our planet, more and more scientists believe that it is ethically wrong to kill newly discovered creatures that are rare and most likely endangered, and that new technologies mean that it is not necessary to obtain dead specimens. This has led to a heated and sometimes acrimonious ongoing debate. For example, Alain Dubois and André Nemésio describe those who are against killing for science as an “ethically correct tyranny” who peddle “a hypocrisy and a lie” and choose “ignorance in the name of conservation.” Donegan counters that the International Code for Zoological Nomenclature defines the term specimen as: “An example of an animal, or a fossil or work of an animal, or of a part of these” (my italics). Thus, argues Donegan, it is possible to achieve one’s objective using nonlethal methods, describing a new species through meticulous descriptions and photographs, along with hair or feather samples and blood for DNA analysis.
Drs. Dubois and Nemésio also believe that if a newly discovered species is known from just one individual, it is probably as good as extinct anyway, so it may be better to kill it for a type specimen rather than risk that it disappear unrecorded by science. But suppose, says Donegan, another individual is subsequently found? In part 4, we describe how the black robin population bounced back from a low of just one remaining female and four males.
While the scientific debate continues, it is comforting to know that a growing number of previously undescribed species have been documented without using dead specimens—and that the descriptions have been generally accepted, and published in peer review scientific journals.
Donegan makes another important point: Researchers who seek to convince poor rural communities that scientific collecting is justified, while hunting or animal trade should be controlled or prohibited, are likely to be regarded as inconsistent and are setting a terrible example. Those who describe species without killing them have the moral authority to encourage conservation initiatives among the local people—in whose hands the future lies. When JGI was working in Burundi, I decided to end a collaborative arrangement with another organization when I found it was planning a large-scale collection of birds and small mammals for scientific research in our study area. I pointed out that we had spent a great deal of time convincing the local population that wildlife should be respected and protected and that if they were now offered money to go trap and kill them, all our headway would be lost.
New Primates—Our Closest Relatives
Two new species of Old World monkeys—in the Himalayas and in Tanzania—and one New World monkey in Brazil, have been found since the start of the new millennium. In 2003, the Nature Conservation Foundation organized an expedition to the mountainous Indian state of Arunachal Pradesh, bordering Tibet and Myanmar. They found a monkey unknown to science—the first macaque species to be discovered since 1908. Of course the local people knew the animals well and called them mun zala—the “deep forest monkey”—which led to its scientific name of Macaca munzala, commonly known as the Arunachal macaque or stocky monkey. Fourteen troupes of about ten monkeys each were located in areas of undisturbed forest—the monkeys were shy and very wary of people. They are, as one of their names suggests, stocky in shape, with brown fur that is darker on their heads, and short tails.
Our second monkey, Rungwecebus kipunji or the kipunji, was found in 2003 in the southern highlands of Tanzania. By an almost unbelievable coincidence, it was discovered in two different locations some 250 miles apart, at almost the same time, by two completely separate expeditions! Dr. Tim Davenport of the Wildlife Conservation Society (WCS) and his team first found the kipunji in the Rungwe-Livingstone Forest in December 2003.
Less than a year later, in July 2004, Dr. Trevor Jones led an expedition sponsored by the University of Georgia into the Ndunduhi Forest Reserve of the Udzungwa Mountains and discovered four groups (each group has about thirty to thirty-six individuals) of kipunji living there as well. Sadly, I was told by Tim Davenport that this kipunji population is no longer considered viable, despite the fact that the reserve has been highly protected.
Meanwhile, the Mount Rungwe–Livingstone Forest has been heavily logged and there have been many poachers. Even so, Tim Davenport’s team has since discovered as many as thirty-four groups of kipunji living there—bringing the total number of individuals up to 1,117 as of March 2009. Fortunately, the Mount Rungwe–Livingstone Forest is about to become a nature reserve (something Tim and his team have fought hard for), which should help keep the kipunji more secure.
The really exciting thing about this discovery is that the monkey is not merely a new species, but a completely new genus, having biological characteristics that differentiate it from both mangabey and baboons. (For those who don’t remember their school biology lessons, genus is an even broader classification than species.) At first it was thought to be a kind of mangabey and named the highland mangabey, but then a dead one was found, trapped by a local farmer, and DNA analysis showed that it was more like a baboon. It is about three feet in length, with long brownish fur, a crest of hair on its head, and pronounced whiskers on its cheeks. Instead of communicating with a mangabey-type whoop gobble, the kipunji has a honk bark. Just reading about these sounds makes me really want to hear them for myself. It certainly stimulates the auditory imagination—a whoop gobble and a honk bark.
In an interview, Dr. Jones said, “I’ll never forget the day we were surveying biodiversity in the forest, and one of our team suddenly grabbed me and pointed to a monkey in a tree a hundred meters away. I grabbed my binoculars and nearly fell over. It was a very surreal moment, and I simply stood there in disbelief.” Soon after this fantastic experience—surely every biologist’s dream—he learned about the new monkey that Davenport and his team had just found. When they subsequently realized that the two new monkeys were the same species, they decided to publish their findings jointly. It has long been known that the mountains of southern Tanzania have provided a refuge for a variety of species long extinct elsewhere—what else, I wonder, is waiting to be found?
The New World monkey, the blond capuchin (Cebus queirozi), was discovered near Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, in 2006 by Antonio Rossano Mendes Pontes. It has golden hair with a white “tiara” on its head. Thirty-two individuals were seen in a forest and swampland fragment of only about five hundred acres. One individual was caught, examined, photographed, and returned to the forest. Some suspect that rather than a new species, the blond capuchin may be a rediscovery of a monkey named Simia flavia, known only from a drawing by German taxonomist Johann Christian Daniel von Schreber in the 1770s.
Primates from Brazil and Madagascar
In the vast forests of the Amazon Basin, many secrets of nature still lurk. My longtime friend Dr. Russ Mittemeier, who now holds the prestigious position of scientific director of Conservation International, has spent many years exploring the Brazilian Amazon forests. Between 1992 and 2008, he and his team discovered, described, and named a total of six new marmoset species and two species of titi monkeys. One of them, for me, was very special because on a brief visit with Russ I was able to meet the little creature. Russ had only recently rescued her from a remote village. Diminutive and absolutely enchanting, this scrap of a primate sat on Russ’s shoulders as he told me stories of his travels.
Presently she moved onto my shoulder, and I had an unreal feeling—I was in contact with a tiny being that only a handful of Westerners had yet seen. How many of her kind, I wondered, were out there, living their unknown lives? It was subsequently determined that she represented a completely new genus. Now known as Callithrix humilis, the black-crowned dwarf marmoset, she has a name longer than she is! In fact, during the first eight years of the new millennium, a total of eight new species of prosimians (all primates other than monkeys and apes) have been described in Brazil: three marmosets, three titi, and two uakari.
During the same eight years, no fewer than twenty-two new species of lemurs were discovered in Madagascar—seven species of the tiny mouse lemur, two giant mouse lemurs, five dwarf lemurs, two woolly lemurs, and four new sportive lemurs. Russ has also spent time in Madagascar, and in 2006 a mouse lemur and a sportive lemur were both named for him.
New Birds
Whenever a new species of bird is found, a ripple of excitement runs through the circles of the ever-growing bird-loving public. In 2007, Dr. Blanca Huertas, of the Natural History Museum of London, led an expedition to the remote Yariguies Mountains in Colombia, and among many fascinating discoveries that she and her colleague, Thomas Donegan, made was the Yariguies brush finch (Atlapetes latinuchus yariguierum), a small bird with striking black, yellow, and red plumage. I spoke briefly on the telephone with Blanca and asked her how she felt when they found this bird.
“It took time before it sank in,” she said. She thought for a moment, then added, “I think it is wonderful that we have left a little fingerprint on science.” (Her team left another little fingerprint when they found a new species of butterfly.) Blanca told me that this brush finch was the first bird species from the New World in which individuals were not killed deliberately to provide type specimens. Instead the team planned to identify the species by means of detailed descriptions, photographs, and blood samples. In fact, one of the two birds caught for this purpose died accidentally, so they ended up with a dead type specimen after all.
For the past few years, environmentalists have been pushing to have the area protected; the finding of the new species has been of great help in this respect. Blanca told me that the area will very soon be declared a national park.
Ant from Mars
In mid-2008, short articles appeared in many international newspapers about a newly discovered ant from Brazil’s rain forest—the Ant from Mars. Soon after I saw one article, I tracked down Christian Rabeling, the biologist who discovered it near Manaus, and we had a fascinating conversation. The most exciting thing is that this ant is not just a new species, but a new genus. Its closest relatives seem to be ants that lived some ninety million years ago. I asked Christian how he felt about this discovery: “I think someone really loves me!” he said.
He found the pale, eyeless ant by pure chance. One evening, when it was nearly dark, he was sitting in the forest getting ready to go home. He saw a strange white ant walking over the leaf litter and, not recognizing it, popped it into preservative in one of the small vials that he always carried and put it into his pocket. When he got back home, he was tired and had quite forgotten about it. Three days later, he found the specimen in the pocket of his pants. It was then that he realized he had found something extraordinary. Subsequently he sent photos of his specimen to Stefan Cover, who is in charge of the ant collection in the Museum of Comparative Zoology, the largest ant collection in the world.
Stefan told us his reaction. “The first glimpse I got was just a grainy image on Christian’s computer. But it was obvious right away that I was looking at a completely unusual animal. I said, ‘Holy smoke. I don’t know what the hell that is.’” Later he told us, “Usually I know an ant when I see one. I can identify the subfamily, what genus, in some cases I can even guess the species. But looking at this ant made my brain go into tilt. It was definitely an ant—but unlike anything I had ever seen.”
Stefan, knowing that Ed (E.O.) Wilson, famous among other things for his definitive book about ants (and a great hero for Christian), would love to see the strange ant, fetched him from down the hall. And Ed, looking at the image on Christian’s computer, made his now famous comment:
“My God! That looks like an ant from Mars.”
“It was thrilling for all of us,” said Stefan. “A lot of scientists live for this moment.”
There is a final quirk to this story. Five years before Christian made his find, Manfred Verhaagh had found two strange-looking ants in just one of several soil samples from the area where Christian was working. Manfred preserved them in a vial—but as he was traveling with them, taking them to be identified, the container leaked and the priceless specimens were utterly destroyed. They tried everything to rehydrate them, but nothing worked. When five years later, Christian found the “Ant from Mars,” he sent a photo to Manfred—who immediately knew it was the same as the two that had been destroyed!
Science Fiction in the Depths of Sea and Earth
As we’ve mentioned, new species of invertebrates are continually being found. But sometimes a discovery seems out of the ordinary, especially when we find a survivor from a world millions of years ago, when life-forms were struggling to survive in the inhospitable environment of the cooling planet.
Such is the case with the recent discovery of giant tube worms in the depths of the Gulf of Mexico by marine biologists from Penn State University. In this unlikely and eerie world, the worms live on chemicals from volcanic vents on the ocean floor. They have no natural predators and can grow to ten feet in length! The biologists, who measured the growth rate of individual tube worms over a four-year period, calculated that they would have to live for 250 years—a quarter of a millennium—to reach their maximum length. If this is true—if there were no growth spurts caused by changes in sea chemicals due to volcanic action—they would be the longest-living invertebrates on earth. Or at least of those that we have discovered—who knows what other wonders are out there!
The next tale is even more extraordinary—the discovery of the Ayalon Cave (as it is now known) near Ramla in central Israel. The entrance to an extraordinary world was discovered accidentally when workers in a deep limestone quarry broke through the wall. When scientists from Jerusalem’s Hebrew University got there, they found a whole unique ecosystem a hundred yards under the ground.
I managed to track down Professor Amos Frumkin of the Hebrew University, and he suggested that I contact his student Israel Naaman, who was one of the first to enter the cave. Israel described it as being a very big “maze cavern.” The conditions, he said, were “not friendly for us—narrow passages, heat, and extremely high humidity.” But, he went on, “the feeling of walking into an unknown place that no one has been before is incredible.”
It is best if I quote Israel’s words, for they give a real sense of the excitement that he and other members of the group felt at the time. “We arrived to a great round hall, forty meters diameter, with twenty-seven-meter height ceiling. I couldn’t see the other side of the hall; darkness swallowed the headlight beam. I took out a stronger hand light and an amazing spectacle was discovered to me—a beautiful underground blue pond. The water was still and the other guy bent forward to the water and started screaming, ‘There are animals in the water!’ On the water surface there was a thin bacterial mat and in the water, pale crustaceans swam, up to five centimeters long and of lobster-like shape.
“Later, guided and equipped by biologists, we found in this lake and its surroundings, a very rich and vital ecosystem, including six new species of arthropod, four of them aquatic and two terrestrial. Additionally we found remains of two other species that probably had become extinct due to intensive pumping of water from the aquifer.”
Soon after the team entered the cave, they discovered eyeless white creatures living in the subterranean aquifer. Ultimately, the team discovered six new species of arthropods. This one was named Typhlocaris ayyaloni.(Dr. David Darom)
Subsequent DNA testing showed that all eight of the species found by Israel and the team—white, shrimp-like crustaceans and scorpion-like invertebrates, all of them without eyes and apparently feeding on the surface bacteria—were new to science. They were, said Professor Frumkin, “absolutely unique in the world.”
Further exploration revealed a maze of passages extending for more than a mile, sealed from the surface water and nutrients above by a layer of chalk and drawing water from deep underground. The whole unique ecosystem dates back five million years, to when part of Israel was under the Mediterranean, and it has been closed off ever since. Unfortunately, as Israel noted, the underground lake is part of an aquifer that is one of the most important freshwater sources for Israel. This means that the cave and its whole ecosystem is affected and extremely endangered.
Let us be thankful we have at least learned of its existence and can marvel at the diversity of life-forms on our amazing planet. How easily it could have vanished, without due reverence, to join the other extinct life-forms of its mysterious prehistoric era.
Unexplored Forests of Indonesia’s Foja Mountains
Some people find it hard to believe that there are still huge tracts of remote forests that have remained unknown to the outside world. During a recent visit to John Conaghan, my dentist in Washington, DC, I was telling him—during the odd moments when my mouth was not full of instruments and fingers—about this book. He told me that his neighbor, Bruce Beeler, had recently returned from an exciting expedition to Papua New Guinea. “He found some kind of new bird,” John told me, and he gave me Bruce’s phone number.
Bruce is an ornithologist, an authority on New Guinea birds as well as a tropical ecologist, and currently serves as vice president for Melanesia at Conservation International in DC. When we talked, he told me something about the expedition he had led, and gave me a link to his Web site. There I learned that the isolated Foja Mountains of Papua, Indonesia’s easternmost and least explored province, lie on the western side of the great tropical island of New Guinea and probably represent the most pristine natural ecosystem in the entire Asia-Pacific region. It comprises some two and a half million acres of old-growth tropical humid forest. The customary landowners of the Foja Mountains, the Kwerba and Papasena peoples, total only a few hundred individuals. They hunt and collect herbs and medicines from the fringes of the forest but seldom penetrate more than a mile into the interior. With the human population so small, animals are still abundant within a mile or so of the villages, and the hunters have no need to travel farther afield.
The story leading up to and culminating with the expedition Bruce led is almost like a fairy tale. “For decades,” Bruce told me, “the Foja Mountains had been a promised land to biologists in search of the unknown.” In 1981, Professor Jared Diamond had managed to make two brief visits to the mountains and found what at least a dozen expeditions had failed to do—the home of the almost mythical golden-fronted bowerbird. It had been described by a German zoologist in 1895 from “trade skins” that had been collected in some unknown corner of western New Guinea, and despite at least a dozen expeditions sent out to search for its homeland, the bird had never been seen alive by Western scientists—until Diamond’s visit eighty-six years later.
This exciting news triggered renewed ambitions to explore the Foja Mountains. Conservation International together with the Biology Research Center of the Indonesian Institute of Sciences made plans to visit the area to learn more about its wildlife. It was not easy—it took ten years to get the permissions that were needed from four government departments and a number of provincial and local authorities. Not until November 2007 did Bruce finally set off with his fourteen-member team of Indonesian, American, and Australian scientists. They were dropped down by a helicopter and set up camp in a remote mist-shrouded world high up the mountains.
Even with expectations running high, none of the members of that expedition could have imagined that, within minutes of arrival, they would encounter a bizarre red-faced and fleshy white-wattled honeyeater bird unlike anything in their field guide. With a thrill, Bruce told me, he suddenly realized that he was looking at a completely new species—the first new bird discovered on the island of New Guinea since 1951. For the time being they named it the wattled smoky honeyeater. (You can see photos of this bird on our Web site.)
And then, just one day later, the team was amazed when a male and female Berlepsch’s six-wired bird of paradise (Parotia berlepschi) came right into their camp, and the male, with his spectacular plumage, displayed on the ground to the female for more than five minutes—in full view. “We stood in awe as the male romped about in the saplings, flicking his wings and white flank plumes, whistling his sweet two-note song for the female,” said Bruce. “I was too spellbound to get my camera out that first time.”
They were the first Western scientists to see the birds alive, and they instantly realized that it was a full and distinct species, looking very different from other bowerbirds. The team had discovered the unknown homeland of this remarkable bird and seen its spectacular displays within two days of arrival! I can only imagine the excitement in the air as they gathered for supper that evening. And it was not long before they located one of the yard-high constructions of carefully placed twigs that marked the “maypole” dance grounds of the golden-fronted bowerbird and made the first photographs of this species displaying at its bower. It turned out that the bird was common in the area.
The discoveries continued, day after day. Altogether forty species of mammals were recorded, including many that are rare in other parts of New Guinea, but common and unafraid in the Foja Mountains. The long-beaked echidna, a marsupial that looks a bit like a hedgehog and has a beak like a duck-billed platypus, is the largest of the bizarre and primitive egg-laying mammals. A few of these rare beings were seen on three successive nights. Twice they allowed themselves to be picked up and carried into camp for study.
These strange creatures have never reproduced in captivity, and nothing is known about their natural behavior. Another highlight was the discovery of a population of the golden-mantled tree kangaroo (Dendrolagus pulcherrimus)—the first record of the species in Indonesia. It is an extraordinarily beautiful jungle-dwelling kangaroo that literally climbs into trees and is critically endangered. This is only the second site in the world where it is known to exist.
The Foja Mountains appear to be one of the richest sites for frogs in the Asia-Pacific region—the team found more than sixty species, at least twenty of which are new to science. These mountains are also a paradise for butterflies—more than a hundred and fifty species were found, four new to science. And of course the botanists found many remarkable and previously undescribed plant species, including a rhododendron growing high in the treetops with spectacular scented white flowers, and five new species of palm.
I cannot imagine anything more fantastic than being part of such an exciting expedition. It was just such an adventure that I had dreamed of as a child. I asked Bruce how he felt when he got there. How was it to wake up in paradise?
“I remember standing, at dawn, in a lovely little bog atop a flat ridge in the very center of the Foja Mountains,” he told me. “A mighty black sicklebill quipped loudly to the south. A dozen other birdsongs floated overhead. The sky was a deep blue. I was in an Eden of sorts, one without the footprint of humankind, one left to the birds and marsupials … it was a sublime moment.”
When I spoke with Bruce, he told me that in two days he would be setting off on another expedition to his Eden—and I was left with an unrealistic longing to be part of it.
A Monster Palm from Madagascar
My last story is about a giant palm found recently on Madagascar. I learned the story of this palm during a visit to Kew Botanical Gardens in 2008. John Sitch, who works with palms, was eager to tell me about this extraordinary discovery. He picked up one of the row of pots that sprouted young specimens of the plant, holding it almost reverently. He is not a demonstrative man, but the excitement was clear in his voice as he explained that this was a completely new species of fan palm, the largest ever found in Madagascar—the adult leaves have a sixteen-foot diameter. Apparently the full-grown palm is so massive that it can actually be seen on Google Earth!
I can just imagine the amazement of Xavier Metz, the French manager of a cashew plantation, when he and his family came upon this huge palm as they were exploring a remote area in the northwest of the country. He had never seen anything like it, and was sure it was a new species, so he took photos.
It was even more exciting than anyone had thought—not only an undescribed species, but actually the single species of a new genus. And this genus was from an evolutionary line that was not known to exist in Madagascar. It was named Tahina spectabilis—tahina is Malagasy for “to be protected or blessed” (the given name of Anne-Tahina, daughter of the discoverer), and spectabilis is Latin for “spectacular.” An intensive survey showed that there was just one population of ninety-two individuals tucked away at the foot of a limestone outcrop.
This palm has the most extraordinary life cycle. When it is about fifty years old and has reached a height of nearly sixty feet “the stem tip starts to grow, and changes into a giant terminal inflorescence sprouting branches of hundreds of tiny flowers,” John told me. These flowers ooze nectar, and are soon surrounded by birds and insects. It is a spectacular flowering, “and each flower, once pollinated, can become a fruit,” said John. Then, once the fruits have ripened, the palm is utterly exhausted. The flowering and the fruiting are its swan song, and it collapses and dies.
About a thousand seeds from this palm were carefully collected and have been sent to Kew’s Millennium Seed Bank in Sussex. Seeds have also been distributed to eleven botanical gardens around the world, so that the palm can be conserved in living collections—one of the goals of the seed bank. Because Tahina is limited to just the one area on the island, and because flowering and fruiting are such rare occurrences, conservation at the site will not be easy. However, the villagers have become involved. A village committee has been set up to patrol and protect the area. And some of the seeds have been sent to a specialist palm seed merchant in Germany so that he can raise and sell palms to create funds for village development as well as conservation of the palm.
I told John that I look forward to seeing Tahina in Kew’s Palm House, a spectacular public exhibit of species from around the world. But alas, I shall not be alive when the first Kew plant is fifty years old and has its first burst of flowering!