Two steps forward, one step back in the fight against MICONIA

Hovering above the East Maui rain forest in a helicopter that you wish had doors, pilot Pete Vorhes eyeballs the thick canopy below and spots the enemy, identical to its picture on the wanted poster and unable to blend in with the rest of the crowd.

Later that day, he does, ridding the upper Wailua landscape of one more mature miconia plant and giving hope to the future. Thanks to an air-ground attack that’s been revved up in recent times, the battle against miconia – something most everyone thought to be in vain – has been showing signs of success. Some previous hot spots in remote sections of the forest have returned to almost normal and even crews searching by foot occasionally get “futless” because they can’t find a plant to pull.

The main core of miconia – which took root on the outskirts of Hana town about 18 years ago – remains at five-alarm status, but the current threat of it spreading into the pristine slopes of Haleakala has less to do with the plant’s science-fiction-like ability to reseed itself than decisions made in Washington, D.C., to cut back on funding.

This year, at a time when money could not be more crucial, more than $500,000 in federal appropriations will be slashed from the miconia aresenal. A three-year program that provided $360,000 annually to the cause has came to its end, and the Cooperative Conservation Initiative, which has contributed $300,000 a year, was not renewed by the Bush administration.

“You can’t beat miconia with a small army,” said Teya Penniman, manager of the Maui Invasive Species Committee, which has made the control of miconia one of its top priorities. “It takes manpower, time and money.”

With MISC coordinating the miconia project and pooling funds from federal, state, county and private sources, enough baby steps have been taken that biologists and others have started whispering the unthinkable: Could miconia be controlled on Maui?

“Of all the years going into the forest, this year we took notice of big differences,” said Sam Akoi III, who joined the first East Maui miconia hunting team in 1996 and now serves as leader of the six-man Hana crew that spends its days scouring the mountains or searching from the air.

“When I first started, I didn’t think we were going to ever get rid of it. We worked all last week and we were lucky to find 30 plants. Sometimes you get real futless, but that’s good. You’re not finding as many.”

Those high hopes, however, could get quickly dashed. MISC expects its federal contribution – which represents nearly one-third of its budget – to plunge from $750,000 to $200,000 later this year and drop even more the following fiscal year. Already, the successful air program that has helicopters targeting miconia in hard-to-access regions has been reduced by 25 percent – from 40 hours a month to 30, 11 months a year.

“It’s going to amount to a huge, huge loss,” said Penniman.

Because it has no natural enemies in Hawaii, miconia has evolved into the most super of the super weeds, a T-Rex of invasive species that has such a will to live it can survive in the dark or with barely any soil. Reaching heights of a three-story building in just five years, the adult trees produce clusters of berries that can launch millions of seeds as fine as black pepper.

“This plant don’t work for nobody but himself,” said Darryl Tau’a, who grew up in Keanae and has been part of the Hana crew since 2003.

Unfortunately, miconia is as beautiful as it is nasty. The two-tone leaves – as big as an elephant’s ears – are a gorgeous green on top and deep purple on the bottom. Indeed, the plant was brought to Hana as an ornamental for home gardens by a well-meaning local nursery grower some 20 years ago. Biologists were horrified when they first identified miconia in East Maui in 1988, well aware it was the same plant that has obliterated 75 percent of the native landscape of Tahiti where it was given the nickname “the green cancer.” Five years later, miconia was added to Hawaii’s list of noxious pests and forbidden from future sale, but it was too late. The perimeter around the nursery was horribly infested and the circle was spreading outward, much like billows of smoke from an explosion.

By the mid-’90s, the first crew was established to try to keep miconia from doing to East Maui what it already had done to Tahiti.

“It disrupts the whole ecosystem,” said Tau’a. “It destroys the whole rain forest. This type of plant, nothing can grow under it, there’s no ground cover so the runoff goes into the rivers and kills all the life there, the silt goes into the ocean and kills the reef there. There’s nothing to hold the ground so there’s landslides and the seeds just spread.

“There’s no life for animals in the forest and there’s no life for fish in the reef.”

The Hana crew was set up by the state forestry division 10 years ago when only the most optimistic expert thought there was a real chance of reining in the formidable plant. MISC funded its own team in late 1999 and merged efforts with the state in 2002. Because Don Reeser, then superintendent of Haleakala National Park, saw the onslaught of miconia marching closer to the park’s boundaries where it could possibly invade pristine Kipahulu Valley, federal funds were sought to try to keep it at bay.

“The Park Service provided significant funding,” said Penniman. “Don Reeser had the vision and said, ’Why wait until it gets to the park? Let’s do something now.’ ”

Not only did NPS do something by successfully applying for monies to fight the creeping miconia, it designated certain staff to assist with the cause. Among those brought on board was high-energy biologist Jeremy Gooding, liaison of the Park Service’s Pacific Islands Exotic Plant Management Team based in Washington, D.C. For the past four years, Gooding has helped MISC guide the ground-air programs.

His head craned outside the helicopter to assess the situation below, Gooding was noticing the improvement, too.

“We’re definitely being successful out here – there’s fewer seeding plants and in certain areas, there’s none,” he said.

But the upcoming budget cuts could give miconia another green light. Just as it took some time before the progress was duly noted, so will it take time before the relapse is obvious.

“You’re not going to see the ramifications until next year because it takes plants awhile to catch up,” said Gooding. “If we don’t succeed in getting adequate funding, we’re basically going to be throwing in the towel.”

And that’s a shame. Not only has the miconia program knocked down the number of plants before they get to the flowering stage, it’s increased awareness in the East Maui community in general. Members of the Hana crew, all born and raised in the area, spend most of their time eradicating the super weeds, but also visit classrooms and special events like the Taro Festival, where they educate their neighbors about what not to plant.

“Back before, people didn’t know too much about miconia,” said Tau’a. “Now they know.”

Akoi and Tau’a are joined in the field (or in the air) by Imi Nelson, Chad Smith, Floyd Helekahi and Elroy Krause. Tanya Vasquez helps out at the baseyard.

The enthusiasm of the team is hard to ignore. When Nelson was asked what the best part of the job was, he needed only an instant to reply.

“Just coming to work,” he said with a smile. “Just getting out in the forest. I want to save our forest. We think this work is important work.”

Hunting miconia is no ordinary day at the office, even for those whose office is the great outdoors. Because of the plant’s microscopic seeds that can fly around like dust and stick to anything, workers wear “miconia only” clothing for their dirty work. Once in the backcountry, Akoi and Helekahi get out of the truck and change into special boots, socks, pants, shirts and gloves that have been stored in sealed plastic tubs. They pick up machetes that are used for nothing else but cutting miconia.

After they’ve gotten into their miconia gear and gone out into the forest to hack the plants, Akoi and Floyd can no longer sit in the cab of the truck because they could track in seeds that could stick to someone else. So they must ride in the back or hike while Tau’a drives.

Disposal of miconia is just as sensitive. Even if the plant gets cut down, it can still reroot from a leaf or even a node in a leaf if left on the ground. That’s why you might see a row of dead miconia hanging from a fence – that’s about the only way it will dry up and die. Its survivalist’s instincts amaze everyone.

“I’ve seen them growing in caves upside down, curling up like they’re looking for the sun,” said Akoi. “I’ve seen them growing on tree tops.”

“We’ve even seen them growing on stones,” added Helekahi.

At the end of the day, away from the core, they change back into their “clean” clothes and repack their miconia gear in the tub, then get transported to a baseyard where their boots are “d-conned” (decontaminated) and every precaution is taken to prevent the spreading of the seeds. Once a week, Vasquez launders all the clothes at the baseyard – in a washing machine and dryer designated for miconia-only garments. The trucks get power-washed.

“Even the seats get cleaned,” said Akoi.

Saving the forest also has its dangerous side: sprained ankles and machete injuries are common. To reach the most remote stands of miconia on steep cliffs, members of the crew have recently been learning to rappel. They go through a pair of heavy boots every six months. They have safety meetings every Monday.

“It’s definitely hazardous work,” said Penniman.

The air operation can be risky, too. Gooding managed to walk away from a serious crash on the Big Island a few years ago while others in the helicopter were left with life-altering injuries. Vorhes, the pilot for Windward Aviation, handles some of the most intense helicopter missions on Maui: he’s often called out to rescue stranded hikers or to help douse fires.

“I look at fighting miconia just like fighting a fire,” said Vorhes.

That’s the strategy that Gooding thinks has led to the glimmer of hope. At first, MISC concentrated its efforts on trying to control the core of miconia, but with Vorhes and other Windward pilots at the controls, it was decided to concentrate on eliminating the mature plants in the outlying areas while continuing efforts at the core.

“A helicopter is a great tool for this kind of work,” said Vorhes.

When he was asked to fly his first mission for the miconia hunters, Vorhes knew nothing about the plant. Today he preaches the miconia message as if he were a trained botanist.

“I used to be like everyone else – what’s miconia?” said Vorhes. “Now I’m always looking for it when I’m flying somewhere. If I’m doing work for the fire department, The Nature Conservancy or Haleakala National Park, I’m always looking for miconia, too. If we don’t do something now, in 20 years we won’t have a forest.”

If he sees a new patch while making other rounds, Vorhes makes a mental note of its location and later returns with the team in tow. Attacking a 30-foot miconia plant from a helicopter is no easy feat. With the help of others, Vorhes attaches to the bottom of his aircraft a long cable that holds a canister filled with herbicide that will be pinpointed directly on the plant.

“People sometimes think we’re spraying everything or that we’re out on green harvest,” said Vorhes. “We’re just after the miconia.”

A hundred feet below, the ground crew continues to cut transects and search for plants under the canopy.

“From the chopper, you can’t get them all,” said Helekahi. “So you walk underneath to find those.”

Gooding emphasizes to the Hana crew members that they shouldn’t worry about the keiki as much as the adults. That advice has resulted in fewer mature, flowering miconia even in the most heavily invested of places: Nelson said during one sweep through the core, only two “seeders” were found out of 300 plants.

With the budget cuts looming, Penniman said MISC is trying to think of ways to be less dependent on government sources. She said the Maui ISC chapter is luckier than others in the state because of the county’s generous support, which amounted to $500,000 to the organization’s general operation this year with another $50,000 each to fight coqui frogs and banana bunchy top.

“Maui County gets it – both at the administrative level and the county council,” said Penniman.

A study was done that found if sufficient finances were reserved to fight miconia, it might take $27 million over less than 20 years to get the plant under control, said Penniman. If efforts continue at the status quo, it would take at least $47 million. With the budget cuts, no one can even guess.

As for now, the entire Maui miconia eradication program is at a crossroads that few thought they would reach – and now all that progress could be for naught.

“When I first saw all of this (miconia), I said ’they gotta be out of their minds to think we can get rid of it,’ ” remembered Tau’a. “But over the years, it’s been worth it. We’re getting there.”

Akoi said he won’t be satisfied until the forest is forever cured of the green cancer.

“It makes me smile when we go in and you don’t find as much,” he said. “Now that I’ve seen this kind of improvement, I’m not going to quit. I want to see this to the end.”