On the toad trail

Since arriving in Queensland in 1935, cane toads have been a threat to wildlife. Francesca Newby meets a man who is creating solutions.

The Great Toad Muster of 2006 should go down as one of the major environmental acts in Australia’s history. People came from across the land and gathered at Timber Creek, a tiny town near the border of Western Australia and the Northern Territory. Between 23 September and 31 October, right in the middle of the dry season, 126 volunteers pitched camp around Auvergne Lagoon. They used choppers to locate waterholes, then moved in by four-wheel drive. Armed with gloves and high-wattage lamps, they filled their sacks with toads. At the end, when the final count came in, they’d captured 48,374 cane toads.

Graeme Sawyer, Northern Territory regional coordinator for ToadBusters, repeats the figure with relish. “Before we began,” he says, “I’d get people to estimate how many toads they thought were out there. Only a few guessed even into the thousands. But I wasn’t surprised – I knew we’d get a lot.”

There are few people who know more about the habits and habitat of the cane toad (Bufo marinus) in Australia. Since their release into the cane fields of North Queensland in June 1935, the creatures have become an increasingly serious problem. Graeme has made it his life’s work to find a solution to this infestation of poisonous amphibians that is killing Australia’s native fauna at a disturbing rate.

We meet Graeme at his home in the suburbs of Darwin. FrogWatch, the umbrella organisation that administers ToadBusters, has an office nearby, yet Graeme keeps a lot of the cane toad paraphernalia at his house. “They knew they had a problem straightaway,” he says of the scientists who were responsible for introducing cane toads to Australia. “As soon as they were released, they started breeding, and in less than six months 60,000 toads had been born. Maybe it would never have got this bad if they had one of these back then.” Graeme is referring to the ingenious trap he devised to stem the tide of toads in remote areas of the outback.

Designed to catch the maximum number of toads, while respecting the requirement to capture them in a humane manner, the traps are pretty ordinary-looking for a potentially revolutionary device. “There are lots of different traps for different animals,” explains Graeme, “but few that are structured specifically so the captured animal stays alive.” It’s a well-worn cliché that necessity is the mother of invention, but in this case it’s apt. “We put these traps in some pretty isolated spots,” says Graeme. “What I needed was a system that was self-sustaining and could be set up without electricity.” The traps, which are innovative, yet simple, use a solar panel to run a black UV light to attract insects, which in turn attract the toads. The prospect of meals on tap entices the toads into the traps. A snug compartment with a watering system keeps the toads alive until they are harvested, avoiding the possibility of slow death from dehydration.

“One major priority was not catching any native wildlife, which is why the mesh is the precise size it is,” explains Graeme. “In two years, we’ve only caught three individual native birds in the traps.” Graeme’s dedication to protecting Australian native animals is his driving force, and his understanding of how micro-environments operate is one of the organisation’s greatest assets.

“The only way to approach this particular disaster is to understand both the toad and the area it’s invading,” explains Graeme. No matter how in-depth your knowledge, though, there’s always an element of surprise. “What we’ve been finding, which is quite funny,” says Graeme, “is we get lots of baby toads, small enough to get back out, that are choosing to stay because the insulated section creates a cosy little ‘toad motel’ at the back of the trap.”

Capturing the toads is an effective way of reducing numbers in the wild; it’s also the best way to increase our awareness of their behaviour and patterns. Graeme, who has previously worked as a teacher of environmental sciences and information technology, is convinced knowledge is one of the most important weapons in the urgent fight to prevent their seemingly inexorable march across the top end. “What made the Great Muster so effective is the insights we’ve gained through this program,” insists Graeme. Toads, as well as frogs, require constant access to moisture, as they ‘drink’ through their skin. Graeme combined this knowledge with his understanding of how the wet and dry seasons shape the environment in the far north, to develop a theory of seasonal movement and behaviour in the toad population. Predicting that the long dry season would force the toads to gather at ever-diminishing water sources, Graeme drove forward the theory that the hostile nature of the area surrounding the Pinkerton Range would allow the creation of a ‘control zone’, designed to halt the spread of toads. The Stop The Toad Foundation, in WA, joined forces with ToadBusters to stage the Great Toad Muster.

‘Think global, act local’ is one of the rallying cries of the environmental movement. It’s also just common sense, and while Graeme is delighted with the success of the control zone, it’s the continuing small local musters that are having an impact on the cane toad population in Darwin. Right through the year, Graeme and his team of two full-time staff and one part-timer identify likely locations and lead small groups of volunteers on musters. Tonight he’s taking me with him, but first I’m taken through the various methods ToadBusters has developed to deal with the cane toad problem in Darwin.

The traps are the first line of defence, and Graeme takes us on his rounds to clear the traps he’s laid on the banks of Rapid Creek. Numbers are low today and Graeme is quietly pleased to see their downward trajectory mirrors the team’s projections. “We’ve put these traps in as many spots as possible,” says Graeme, “but we can’t cover the whole city on our own. Once the traps went into people’s backyards, we saw numbers fall straightaway.” ToadBusters then needed to develop a system for collecting captured toads, so Graeme came up with the ‘detention centres’. “You can thank John Howard for that little gem,” adds Graeme. The main toad collection point is a big white box stationed on the periphery of the Shoal Bay Recycling Centre, otherwise known as ‘The Dump’.

“We cleared out the detention centre at Fred’s Pass, which is about 20km from Darwin, a couple of weeks ago,” explains Graeme, “and there were about 800 in there. It shows we’re keeping them out of Darwin itself. Fred’s Pass is part of the rural defence ring and it’s working.”

It’s heading up to muster time and Graeme is keen to return to headquarters to check tonight’s equipment. He leaves us in the capable hands of 19-year-old David ‘Dado’ Wenman. Dado works full-time for ToadBusters building traps, surveying possible sights and clearing known trouble spots. “I went to school with Graeme’s daughter, Kylie, so I’ve known him for quite a long time,” explains Dado. “When I had finished school, he approached me and asked what I was going to do. Then he offered me a job making traps for the toads.”

Dado came to the job with an aptitude for the mechanical aspect of the work, and in the process has discovered his affinity for the Top End’s native wildlife. He takes us down to the dam to trawl for tadpoles. “We’ve seen a few water monitors [large lizards] down here in the past month,” says Dado happily. “Even a python, which is great because it means they’re probably learning not to eat the cane toads, and there must be other food around. That all means we’re making a difference.”

The wildlife under the gravest threat from cane toads in Australia are the three big goanna species: the Mertens’ water monitor, yellow-spotted monitor and Mitchell’s monitor. Marsupials have also borne the brunt, in particular the northern quoll and the phascogale. “Crows in Queensland are the only creatures I know that have adapted [to the cane toads],” adds Dado. “The toads’ poison glands are on their backs, so the crows flip them over and eat from the stomach in.”

The muster group is set to meet at Lee Point, in the Casuarina Coastal Reserve on the outskirts of suburban Darwin. It’s time to head off when it hits me I’m in a skirt and flats and, frankly, I’m worried about snakes. I ask Graeme whether I need some boots. He looks at me and says, “There aren’t really any snakes left in Darwin – eating toads has taken care of that.” Tonight’s group is relatively small and has a dozen volunteers all up, including a couple of first-timers. Barbara Crisp and Chris Roberts read about the excursion and have brought their own equipment. Graeme doesn’t seem very impressed with their torches, though he’s too polite to say anything. He suggests they shine them across the grass into a dark corner, where they shed a shadowy glow. Then he offers them one of the ToadBusters spotlights, with a high beam that throws every blade of grass into sharp definition. “Now that’s what I call a light,” someone cracks. Graeme smiles.

Dado climbs on to a quad bike and heads off to scour the fence line between the grass and the beach. The rest of the team breaks into groups of three or so. I join with regular volunteer, Bob Goninon. Bob is a firefighter in Victoria, but he’s in Darwin working as a consultant. “I went out behind Lee Point Resort the other day,” he says. “Thought I’d cleared ‘em all out so I started walking back. I got this feeling, and turned around and there they were behind me, walking up the road. My sack was full, so I had to put out an SOS. I reckon we got about another 150.”

Bob’s ‘calling’ stems largely from a lifelong fascination with frogs. “We’ve got thousands of frogs on our property back in Eildon [in Victoria],” says Bob. “That’s what got me involved: knowing the damage toads have done up here, and what they could do everywhere if we don’t stop them. I read about FrogWatch in the paper and then got involved as a ToadBuster.”

“I was outside the caravan one night with the sack and torch,” adds Bob. “I wasn’t doing a proper muster – more like nightly maintenance. This bloke who’s staying next to us, a Queenslander no less, leans over the fence and says, ‘What are you up to?’ I explained about the musters, what we’re trying to do, and he said, ‘You’re wasting your bleeding time.’ He doesn’t say it that nicely, though, if you get my drift. It’s not the first time I’ve had that and it really gets my goat. I’m never rude back – I just explain in great detail what it is we’re doing and that it’s actually working. Then I tell him that if Queenslanders had done the same thing when this started, no-one up here would even have seen one, let alone have to do what we’re doing. That always hits home.”

The night’s thin pickings are solid proof that the program is indeed working. Graeme and Dado are satisfied when we pull in about 40 toads – a few weeks earlier almost 400 toads were collected in this spot. Seeing a few frogs – an ornate burrowing frog and a marbled frog – is further cause for celebration. The team and I are also delighted; the knowledge that the legendary Toadzilla was found in this spot is unsettling to say the least and, from where we stand, even one cane toad is one too many.

How you can help

With cane toads overwhelming the ecosystems and endangering wildlife across northern Australia, FrogWatch has devised a new way of expanding its ToadBusters program, giving you the opportunity to help. Now it’s possible for people throughout the country to sponsor a cane toad trap, with details of each catch being featured on the FrogWatch website.

Visit www.frogwatch.org.au for more information on sponsoring a trap.

 

Photography: Andrew Lehman.