Today was, without question, the hardest briefing I have experienced as a County Councilmember.
About six weeks ago, I received a call from the Forest Bird Recovery Coordinator with the Hawaiʻi Department of Fish and Wildlife. As an ecologist, I understood immediately what the data meant.
I cried to the point that I could barely continue the conversation.
After that call, I requested that our Council receive a formal briefing because I believed every one of my colleagues needed to hear directly from the scientists who have dedicated their lives to protecting Kauaʻi's native forest birds.
Today, they did.
The news is heartbreaking.
Our native forest birds are disappearing.
For decades, scientists have monitored mosquito populations throughout the Alakaʻi Plateau because the spread of avian malaria has been the single greatest threat to our remaining honeycreepers. Historically, even one mosquito captured in a monitoring trap overnight was cause for concern, signaling that malaria was creeping higher into the mountains.
Then everything changed.
Beginning in October 2025, those same monitoring traps began catching dozens, and sometimes hundreds, of mosquitoes in a single night.
The mosquito population exploded.
With it came avian malaria.
The consequences have been catastrophic.
The ʻAkikiki has not been observed in the wild since last fall. Scientists now believe it is extinct in the wild on Kauaʻi. Just 39 individuals remain in conservation facilities on Maui and Hawaiʻi Island. They are now the last hope for the survival of this remarkable species.
Last month, biologists located a single ʻAkekeʻe nest north of Mohihi. Based on current surveys, they now believe the species is functionally extinct in the wild. Only one known female remains on Kauaʻi, possibly with a single mate. She laid three eggs this year. This week, the recovery team confirmed that none of those eggs hatched.
Even species that once numbered in the thousands are collapsing.
In 2023, scientists estimated there were approximately 3,500 ʻAnianiau and 9,000 Kauaʻi ʻAmakihi remaining. Since November, they believe the vast majority have been lost. Current estimates suggest fewer than 100 individuals of each species remain.
The ʻIʻiwi, once among the most recognizable birds of our mountain forests, may now number only four or five individuals across the entire Alakaʻi Plateau.
Even our ʻElepaio and ʻApapane, species that had persisted longer than many others, are now experiencing significant declines.
To try to save what remains, biologists are racing against time.
The last surviving birds that can be safely captured are being brought into conservation breeding facilities or, where appropriate, relocated to higher-quality habitat on Hawaiʻi Island where mosquito pressure and avian malaria are currently less severe.
These dedicated scientists, field technicians, veterinarians, conservation organizations, and volunteers have devoted years, many of them decades, of their lives to preventing this very outcome. They have worked tirelessly under extraordinarily difficult conditions. This tragedy is not the result of a lack of effort. It is the result of an invasive mosquito and the diseases it carries expanding into the last refuge these birds had left.
It is difficult to find words for what this means.
These birds evolved over millions of years and exist nowhere else on Earth. They are woven into Hawaiʻi's forests, our culture, our stories, our mele, and our identity. Their songs have echoed through these mountains long before any human foot walked these islands.
And now, within the span of just a few months, we are witnessing the collapse of species that survived countless natural changes, only to be overwhelmed by invasive species and the accelerating effects of a changing climate.
As an ecologist, this is deeply personal.
My life's work has always been rooted in protecting biodiversity and doing everything we can to prevent the loss of species. We are living through what many scientists call Earth's sixth mass extinction, and Hawaiʻi, the extinction capital of the world, stands at the center of that crisis. Every remaining native ecosystem we have is under relentless pressure from invasive species, disease, habitat degradation, and climate change.
Watching Kauaʻi's forest birds disappear during my lifetime is almost impossible to comprehend.
I share this not to spread despair, but because our community deserves to understand the gravity of what is happening.
Future generations may never hear the songs that once filled the Alakaʻi.
Today, we learned just how close we are to losing them forever.
My deepest mahalo goes to every member of the Forest Bird Recovery Project and the many partners who continue fighting for these species against unimaginable odds. Their dedication gives us the only hope that some of these birds may yet survive.
For the rest of us, I hope this briefing serves as a reminder that conservation is not an abstract idea. It is a race against time. And sometimes, despite our greatest efforts, time runs out.
Today, our hearts are with Kauaʻi's forest birds.
PC: Bret Mossman