The recent finding of what was almost certainly a shot devil in bush near Rocky Cape starkly reminds me that, despite the hype about disease and apparent public enthusiasm, not all Tasmanians have a positive attitude to this fundamentally important species.
What was found was most of a devil skeleton with some skin attached in a position exposed to weather. From other carcases I have monitored over time I think the devil died 1-2 years ago. The notable thing was what appeared to be a shot gun pellet hole entering through the right eye and exiting just behind the left eye (see below). I have tried to match the holes with all manner of tooth and claw and none fit.
It’s not the first such skull I’ve examined by a long shot (no pun intended), and it would seem at least opportunistic persecution of devils is alive and kicking (again no pun intended). The skull is with the Save The Tasmanian Devil program.
Still, it should be no surprise since the bad old days are barely behind us. Up to the recent demise of devils from disease, trapping and/or indiscriminate poisoning of devils was standard practise on some sheep properties. Such poisoning of course didn’t involve 1080 (very strictly controlled and to which devils have enormous physiological tolerance) but common, off-the-shelf organophosphate pesticides registered for other uses (making their use for poisoning wildlife illegal under several Acts). In the 1990s I saw 28 dead devils around a sheep carcase together with many dead forest ravens, a wedge-tailed eagle, Australian magpie and grey butcherbird. I have met several ex-farm hands who described their duties in that period of very high devil abundance as including poisoning devils, as matter of fact as fence repairs.
The earliest systematic poisoning after colonisation often took the form of strychnine use by snarers in an effort to protect their catches from damage. Sheep properties often used pitfall traps for catching Thylacines and devils, the former being targeted using a well-known fence at ‘Aplice’, Blessington. Devils can barely jump so it’s not difficult to trap them in a hole or even a trench. The standard for devils was a 6 X 6 X 6 foot hole with a pole across it adorned with tilting shingles. A bait was dumped in and once the first devil fell the trap steadily filled with devils drowning or killing each other. Once it was so full that new devils could escape, another hole was dug – easier than emptying the first. Even the famous Louisa Anne Meredith trapped in a similar fashion on the east coast. A later version I saw (barely derelict in 1998) on a well known northern midlands sheep property was a cut-down water tank with a tilting ramp, reportedly baited with a dead sheep and trapped devil following the bushman adage that “nothing catches a devil like another devil”.
I was recently shown another derelict version of the water tank trap near Waratah, reportedly used well into the 1970s, supposedly to protect pets and stock.
One would have thought such brutality was long-gone history but not so. What was found in 2006 on an award-winning, fine-wool sheep property in the northern midlands was gob-smacking; two huge, sheet metal pit-fall traps containing slurries of decaying devils and possums, the traps still baited. To investigating officers’ amazement, it turned out that ‘crop-protection permits’ had been issued in 1999 and 2000 to that property’s owner for unlimited numbers of devils to be destroyed, the permits arranged outside normal procedures by a game management officer.
None of the remains examined (including skulls) had evidence of being shot (a condition of the permits but impossible from the construction of the traps anyway) and carcases certainly hadn’t been destroyed (another permit condition) so it seems devils, true to tradition, were left to starve, drown or fight to death. It could not be shown that the traps were set by the landowner after his permits expired and the statute of limitations meant even the Animal Welfare Act could not be applied to the period when he admitted using the traps. So, no prosecution.
Figure 2. A pitfall trap for trapping and killing devils; front view (top), the tipping floor with bait behind (centre) and rear view (bottom); 2006.
I put this example firmly in the ‘throwback’ category, in technique only rivalled by a farmer on the east coast who showed me how he used to nail baited shark-hooks to trees at tip-toe height for devils, because, he claimed, “devils were hard to trap”. Clearly some people should never be allowed to have anything to do with animals.
Its not as though more humane alternatives were not available. For many years wildlife authorities occasionally issued crop-protection permits to reduce specific problems (such as heavy lamb losses or attacks on penned, weak ewes – yes losses can be locally significant). Permits specified cage traps and sometimes destruction by shooting. These permits were issued to specific people for specific times and numbers of devils (often 5 or 10 nominated) with resultant carcases to be destroyed. Some of us worked to minimise such issue by making permit conditions increasingly specific, even trialling new things ourselves (such as relocation) to make sure they were practical, encouraging ‘predator management 101’; ie
• better fencing of lambing paddocks (Steve Erwin’s Australia Zoo even donated several thousand dollars to buy netting for one farmer)
• breeding in better mothering (a major problem with merinos)
• reviewing twinning in critical areas (the first born is especially vulnerable to predation during birth of the second)
• improving stock health (predators prefer easy prey)
• coordinating lambing amongst neighbours to spread out local predator attention (otherwise mobile predators just go around farms in series)
• removing offal from lambing paddocks (many farmers are reluctant to disturb lambing merinos but there is a price)
It was an uphill battle on some farms, with left and right hands sometimes not connected. An occasional scenario was hundreds if not thousands of wallabies and possums being shot and left where they fell, almost certainly elevating local devil numbers. Then, in winter when lambing was imminent, shooting stopped so as not to disturb flighty merinos. So, at that cold time of year when there is minimal alternative food and devils were breeding, a major food supply was suddenly turned off. What usually happened was a total no-brainer but, as I was told so often, “its easier to kill devils than change stock management”. So, the habit of pre-emptive poisoning of devils before lambing settled in.
At the moment devils are relatively rare in many places and consequently a lesser nuisance to farmers but it’s important that this hiatus is not filled by overly relaxed stock management because, hopefully, devils will recover somewhat and it would be grim to have the bad old days revisit us.
An ugly affliction gets sympathy but it’s DFTD’s transmissible cancer that really gets peoples’ attention. Somehow we have to transfer the consequent fashionable fascination, by definition both superficial and impermanent into more fundamental change. I think DFTD presents a major opportunity to shift the cultural view of devils from a “dirty stinking thing” to something appreciated for what it is. Broadening the focus from disease to include other facets of devil conservation may be the answer. The Save The Tasmanian Devil program seems to realise this and I believe their concept of public involvement in Special Management Zones for devils has great merit.
Maybe an attitudinal reset is indeed occurring but recent events show there’s still more work to do in imbedding the new attitude to devils amongst the community. Both landowners and wildlife managers should rise to the occasion.
