A Devil’s Heaven
It’s a paradise for devils. And a haven
A wild protected sanctuary is saving a species teetering on the edge of extinction.
High in the remote forested hills of Barrington Tops, New South Wales, 1500 kilometres from their island home of Tasmania, the 200 or so lucky Tasmanian devils of Aussie Ark are also a long way from the deadly disease threatening their species’ survival.
Loping from grassy undergrowth beneath tall eucalypts, half a dozen devils look rumpled and raffish with their white-collared black coats and reddish ears that top outsized button- eyed heads. Guzzling carrion meat tied to a pole in a tight devil scrum, they ignore their human observers, busy being the wild creatures Aussie Ark lets them be.
An innovative and wildly successful conservation project, Aussie Ark has spent the last decade creating a healthy mainland population of the endangered Tasmanian icon, mainly by letting them act naturally in a largescale, feral-free bush sanctuary.
About the size of a big domest ic cat, the Tasmanian devil is the world’s largest living marsupial carnivore. Its bigger cousin, the Tasmanian tiger, died out in 1936. Devil numbers were stable unt il 1996, when a bizarre epidemic suddenly began devastating devil populations across Tasmania. Devil facial tumour disease (DFTD), fatal within a few months, is a contagious cancer spread by bites during scuff les over food and mates. There’s still no cure despite a quarter-century of dedicated research, and devils have suffered an 80-90 per cent decline. A second type of DFTD, just as deadly, was identified in 2014.
After the devil was declared endangered in 2008, increased effort went into establ ishing isolated DFTD-free insurance populations. Tasmania’s offshore Maria Island supports a small introduced colony of healthy devils, and the Forestier-Tasman Peninsula has the only disease-free population in its native range, but Aussie Ark has more devils than both these Tasmanian locales and is the biggest and wildest mainland breeding facility. A big part of its success is the suitability of its terrain.
“Barrington Tops is a lot like Tasmania – you could teleport between the two and not know you’ve moved landscapes,” says Tim Faulkner, head of conservat ion at Aussie Ark and Australian Reptile Park. The exuberant conservationist and animal expert is also well known for his TV work on The Wild Life of Tim
Faulkner and Bondi Vet.
The Ark’s cool- climate, high-alt itude (1300m) snow- gum forest has proved very devi l- f riendly. Launched as Devil Ark in 2011 with 44 DFTD-free specimens, Aussie Ark has bred more than 350 devil joeys – a record outside Tasmania – and holds over half the devils in mainland Australia. Last year, 69 births was a 44 per cent increase on the
A BIG PART OF AUSSIE ARK’S SUCCESS IS THE SUITABILITY OF ITS TERRAIN
previous season, and pouch-checking this year promises another bountiful crop.
FIVE YEARS AGO, Aussie Ark released 23 mainland-bred devils in Tasmania’s Forestier Peninsula, boosting both numbers and genetic diversity in the depleted but DFTDfree habitat. It’s a contribution regular zoos and wildlife parks can’t make, because devils raised in such places lose their wild behavioural traits. Research has found that they tend to be more diurnal [active in daylight] and lose their fear of humans over time. “If you’re going to keep an animal in a conservation
project to return it to the wild, it needs to behave like its wild counterpart,” says Tim. Aussie Ark’s solution – to let devils run as free as possible – is also more cost-efficient. The Ark spends about $2200 per devil per year; the zoo industry average is $10,000. This is because smaller captive-type environments need to keep devils separated in different enclosures for much of the year, which requires more infrastructure and upkeep. Close captivity also makes breeding difficult. “Devils typically won’t breed in a small enclosure but somewhere in between the size of that enclosure and Tasmania they will breed,” Tim explains, “and that’s how we went in search of the suitable habitat and land for the Ark.”
Gaining that Tasmanian-style terrain proved as simple as placing an advertisement in a magazine. A private agricultural family read the advertisement and gifted the land to Aussie Ark. “It’s a really nice partnership and an incredible success story,” Tim says. Not having the initial overheads of land acquisition has enabled Aussie Ark to concentrate on the conservation side.
A LOT OF WORK WAS NEEDED before Barrington Tops could go to the devils. First was the removal of feral species – cats, foxes, goats, pigs, horses, rabbits and hares – which took 12 months. Next was fencing – high-grade metal and 1.8 metres high.
Fences are becoming an effective conservation tool in Australia to protect native species from cunning feral predators such as foxes and cats. “Fencing was a dirty word ten years ago, but it’s real pioneering conservation and it’s now been broadly adopted,” says Tim.
The fences have inclined umbrella tops to stop foxes and cats climbing over, and aprons at the bottom with a metre of meshing either side to prevent digging under. Safe from cars, cats and facial cancer, the Ark’s devils are free to roam up to 500 hectares of wilderness, their natural traits unaffected. Tim describes the fenced-in areas as “islands of habitat” where native species can thrive. “Our biggest is a ten- ki lomet re fence. You can get lost in that island very easily for a day or so,” he says. Aussie Ark’s devils hardly ever see civilisation in their enclosed swathe of pristine forest. The keepers and staff have ver y lit t le interact ion with the couple of hundred devils, who also avoid people. The devils are monitored by camera trap and
SAFE FROM CARS, CATS AND FACIAL CANCER, THE ARK’S DEVILS ARE FREE TO ROAM
microchip reader and sometimes observed while feeding.
However, one necessar y interaction is breeding management. A genetic database is used to prevent inbreeding and optimise genetic diversity. But even this involves minimal contact in conditions as natural as possible. “We have breeding groups of eight devils – four males, four females – in enclosures that are three hectares,” Tim says. “They’re not the wild, but they are incredible natural landscapes.”
Addit ional ly, every year some devi l joeys are hand- reared to serve as cuddle-ready ambassadors for the Ark’s visitor programme. “That’s really great for encouraging people to have a relationship with the devils,” Tim says.
THIS MODEL of species recovery by securing and re-wilding an entire ecosystem has gains extending well beyond the devil. “A 500-hectare, ten-kilometre fenced island can also be home to over 1000 bandicoots, 1000 potoroos, 1000 bettongs and lesser numbers of quolls, rock wallabies, koalas and gliders,” says Tim. As well as reintroducing missing native species to the enclosures, lizards, invertebrates and
plants benefit, too. “Thousands of endangered species benef it from one island,” Tim says, adding that they plan to fence in another 500 hectares.
A wonderful symmetry is at work. Barrington Tops helps the devils, and the devils help Barrington Tops. So far Aussie Ark has introduced to its island of habitat seven threatened species of wallabies, quolls, bandicoots, bettongs, potoroos and turtles. And Koala Ark is on the way.
Devils are an apex predator and a very important part of their ecosystem. Restoring apex predators back to the wild can help bring around mammal diversity and balance the ecosystem.
Tasmanian devils have suffered from many misconceptions over the years, from an early false reputation as a sheep killer to lingering notions of a cranky terror with a vicious bite.
They do have the most powerful bite of any carnivorous mammal per kilogram of body mass – they can crunch through metal traps – but in absolute terms big predators such as lions and bears have much stronger jaws. And they’re hardly ferocious. “Devils are anything but dangerous to people,” Tim says. “If a wildlife worker is bitten [during handling], that’s a bad bite, but generally the risk to people is zero.”
IT SEEMS UNTHINKABLE that Australia should ever lose these little scrappers with their scruffy teddy-bear charisma. Their devilish charm certainly appealed to movie star Leonardo DiCaprio, who pledged Aussie Ark $1 million via his Earth Alliance foundation earlier this year.
And Tim, whose love for all creatures great and small is no secret, admits to a special bond with the compact carnivore his Ark has done so much to protect. “They’re real characters – all individuals with lots of characteristics,” he says, describing them as a very rewarding species to work with. “Their behavioural traits go from timid to aggressive, from shy and elusive to confrontational and bold,” he says. “They’re a real treat.”