Beauty and The Beast

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The Golden Bird Wing caterpillar has many rows of bright red spines to protect itself.

“THE beauty and brilliancy of this insect are indescribable, and none but a naturalist can understand the intense excitement I experienced when I at length captured it. On opening the glorious wings, my heart began to beat violently, the blood rushed to my head, and I felt much more like fainting than I have done when in apprehension of immediate death.”

– Alfred Russel Wallace 1858 (on being the first European to witness the Golden Bird Wing Butterfly: Ornithoptera croesus)

A third century Greek proverb goes, ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.’

Nature is a curious thing. It fills us with awe, it confounds us, and often even shocks at times but above all it is something on which we all depend in one way or another. From the weary farmer in the field drudgingly making his way home after a long day of harvest to the knowledge-seeking child with his magnifying glass admiring the unknowing ever-toiling ant as it to returns to its nest. Nature surrounds us all.

It can protect as easily as it can destroy for it is a foolish man, indeed, that believes he can tame this all-seeing mistress. As fleeting custodians of this shell, one wonders what the generations that come after us, in the centuries that follow, will make of our work. How many of us would take the chance to return in a thousand years to ponder humanity’s fate?

It is, however, in this life that my wife and I have been fortunate. We have witnessed wonders that many will never have the opportunity to see. We have stood at the gates of Angkor Wat as the colossal stone faces looked down upon us as they have done for centuries. We have immersed ourselves in the warm waters of Indonesia and hung motionless next to the mighty whale shark – the gentle giant of the deep whose search for plankton takes the silent leviathan across the deepest oceans. We have stood in rainforest at dawn as the day breaks over a raucous world of choral birds and whirring insects. We have done all this and more; and yet we have seen so little.

If asked what is the most amazing thing I have ever seen, would I choose the endangered wild female orang-utan nursing its newborn infant in the branches of a stormy rainforest in darkest Borneo or perhaps the magnificent Red Bird of Paradise as it struts and dances, parading its suit of gold and red to a would-be beau on its island home. Or should I recant the tale of our encounter with the swarms of stingless pink jellyfish in a long dead volcanic crater on a mysterious deserted island? I think not, although all are worthy contenders. My answer would be simple and unequivocal. There can be only one experience that will forever hold a place in our hearts. The day we found Wallace’s Golden Birdwing Butterfly on its native island of Bacan. Wallace’s description, although rather melodramatic, had whetted our appetite. Of course I realise that many will be surprised at this seemingly trivial choice, after all I hear you ask, “It’s just a butterfly.” But this is not a butterfly, this is the butterfly.

So after months of planning it was with a hurried excitement that we joined our fellow travellers on the deck of the Katharina. A 12-berth pinisi sailing ship. The sun was beginning to appear over the horizon. The previous day we had witnessed the glorious Wallace Standard Wing Bird of Paradise and today another early start was warranted. As we disembarked at the small dock on the island of Bacan, the early morning hustle and bustle of everyday life had already started. Street vendors busily set up their stalls, as had their forefathers for decades before them. Brightly coloured fruit, strange to western eyes, sat neatly stacked and the pristine rows of freshly caught fish sweltered on rapidly melting ice blocks in the early morning sun.

A smartly dressed man beckoned to us and it was with some relief that we climbed inside his air-conditioned vehicle. The heat of the day had already begun. Soon our driver turned off the tarmacked road and onto a bumpy overgrown track and we found ourselves at what appeared to be an airstrip in the middle of a field. Our silent guide merely pointed across the concrete runway to a wire fence that ran along the perimeter. The morning sun was now hot and as we walked we could feel the heat piercing through the thin rubber soles of our shoes. It seemed strange to be walking along a runaway but when asked the guide merely said, “One plane per day,” and smiled.

Could Wallace’s Golden Bird Wing be the most beautiful butterfly in the world?

Leaving the open space behind we entered the forest through a break in the fence and began to walk in single file along the narrow path. The sun was now fully up and the heat on the back of our necks became quite intense. Still we ploughed on. Angela stopped to photograph an amazing jumping spider that sat and eyed us with caution. A female green lynx spider. Butterflies landed and then were gone in an instance as our presence was surely felt like a tsunami thundering through the jungle. It seemed that however quiet we thought we were; the animals here knew long before we saw them that there were trespassers in their paradise.

We soon found ourselves deep in a thick forest. The tall palms afforded us a brief respite from the heat. Our group began to spread out and look for insects and butterflies. Angela wandered along the narrow path and I ventured deep into the undergrowth. Soon we disappeared out of each other’s view and I found myself alone in the forest. I was suddenly transported back to 1859 and I imagined a younger Wallace, sleeves rolled up, his wire-rimmed spectacles perched precariously on his nose. I could see him, net in hand, stalking this place. A huge butterfly with a four-inch wingspan settled before me. I felt his excitement as this blue winged beauty basked in the midday sun although today my hand was filled with a camera and not a net. Having satisfied myself that I had the photograph I needed, the butterfly instinctively flew away and went high into the trees.

A brightly coloured shield bug crawled nonchalantly across my sleeve as I brushed past a bush whilst a huge Nephila spider hung between two trees above my head. Once again I was reminded as to Wallace’s opinion of these impressive but harmless denizens. In his book, ‘The Malay Archipelago’, he had described them on this very island as ‘an inconvenience’ and admitted that he often despatched them when he wandered into a giant web. Nevertheless, there were a great number of spiders here. In particular, the brightly coloured jumping spiders that sat motionless and the wolf spiders, their egg sacs tightly secured on their backs, that ran excitedly at our feet as we disturbed their jungle home.

We carefully captured and photographed them before releasing them back to their home. After all, my weapon of choice is a camera. Our interest lies with ‘capturing’ them on film for posterity and nothing else.

The area is a protected one although numerous local people do eek a living from collecting coconuts and evidence of this could be seen along the path.  Workers with parangs in hand simply smiled at us through toothless grins and red betel nut stained gums and carried on cracking coconuts.

About 2km further on, we arrived at a large net compound erected over an area of about a quarter of an acre. It contained cultivated climbing plants all in flower. There was a netted roof and we entered through a latched but unlocked door.

The guide explained that the butterflies within were being bred and released into the forest as adults where they could be free to reproduce and produce cocoons.

The nets acted as protection from predation and were not intended as prisons. By protecting the newly hatched butterflies and allowing them to mate they ensured a healthy population would establish itself in the area. It seemed to be working as we noted a good number of cocoons outside the netted area and also a number of adults floating about.

In the netted area there were many species of butterfly and as great numerous of spiders. These, too, were sheltered from predation and we counted many Gasteracantha and Macracantha species high up in the roof of the netting. However, I had not seen the one butterfly I had travelled 8,000 miles to see. Wallace’s Golden Bird Wing. As I photographed an Argiope spider with a fascinating web structure, I looked to my left and there it was in all of its glory. To me the most beautiful creature I had ever seen and certainly the rarest. With its 12.5 centimetres wingspan and yellow and black wings, it sat basking in the afternoon sun. Had I been previously asked if I felt that Wallace’s description of his encounter with this beauty was overstated, I would have agreed but now as I stood in the very place that Wallace had seen Ornithoptera for the first time my heart too was pounding and I could understand his enthusiasm.

My excitement was all consuming and my camera began to click uncontrollably.

I estimated that there were at least 50 adult specimens in the area and we found a number of cocoons, caterpillars, and eggs attached to the underside of leaves. Without predation, these creatures were thriving and as we left the netted area another adult floated past our heads and drifted effortlessly into the forest. Angela excitedly called to me and as I approached I saw that our guide had a huge black and red caterpillar crawling on his arm. It was almost three inches long and sat patiently awaiting its return to its feeder plant.

This was the caterpillar of the Golden Bird Wing. Some might consider it ugly, the stuff of nightmares perhaps, whilst others would consider its beauty second to none but undoubtedly no one could deny its attraction.

As we stood and admired this beast, I was drawn to the two red ‘airbags’ on its head that, when threatened, inflated to scare away any would be predator. Along its back many rows of bright red spines sat erect waiting for something or someone to inadvertently touch them. What a wondrous mystery nature is. To me it raises more questions than we have answers.

The idea that something so ‘ugly’ could become something so beautiful is one of those questions we may never answer but, in truth, it is a question that really needs no answer. It is easier if we simply accept that nature is the master of this planet and we are merely passing through like ships in the night.