A thing of beauty, John Keats once remarked, is a joy forever. However, once the thing is lost, it is lost for good. This is particularly true in the case of the Philippine eagle, which serves as the country’s bird icon. This species is currently endangered, and if immediate action is not taken, it may face extinction, much like the dodo did.
According to experts, the demise of the last eagle will signal the onset of even graver consequences: the deterioration of our environment. This is the reason why the Philippine eagle is regarded as a barometer for assessing the health of the country’s environment.
The Philippine eagle is second only to the Madagascar sea eagle in rarity. In size, it beats the American bald eagle; it is the world’s second largest – after the Harpy eagle of Central and South America.
In the past, Philippine eagles abound in the forests of Mount Apo and other parts of Mindanao. They can also be seen flying over in the forests of Sierra Madre in Luzon and Samar and Leyte in the Visayas.
Today, Philippine eagles inhabit those places but their number has dwindled. In fact, the International Union for the Conservation of Nature and Natural Resources has declared the Philippine eagle as an endangered species.
Less than 400 pairs of Philippine eagles in the wild can be found in the country and about half of them are living in the forests of Mindanao. The Philippine Eagle Center in Davao City houses about three dozen pairs, with 18 of them being captive-bred.
Some eagles are being taken care of at the National Bird Breeding Sanctuary (NBBS) located in Barangay Eden, Toril. This sanctuary, which is isolated from agricultural areas and other private developments, is not accessible to the general public.
“The Philippine eagle is the largest predator we have,” says Dennis Joseph I. Salvador, the executive director of the Philippine Eagle Foundation (PEF). “By using the Philippine eagle as the focal point of conservation, we are, in the process, saving wildlife and their habitat.”
The PEF manages the Philippine Eagle Center, which is located in a far-flung area in Malagos of Calinan District. It takes almost an hour to travel from the heart of the city to the center where you get to encounter Philippine eagles placed in cages.
Efforts to save the Philippine eagle was started way back 1965 by Jesus A. Alvarez, then director of the autonomous Parks and Wildlife Office, and Dioscoro S. Rabor, another founding father of Philippine conservation efforts.
From 1969 to 1972, America’s famed aviator Charles Lindbergh spearheaded a drive to save the bird, which he called the “noblest flier.” Within this time frame, several helpful laws were passed.
The majority of the Philippine eagles at the PEC have been nurtured as part of the foundation’s breeding initiative. They are being induced to breed in captivity. Pag-asa is one of its prominent attractions; it gained international attention as the first tropical eagle to be conceived via artificial insemination. Pag-asa translates to “hope” in Tagalog.
“Pag-asa connotes hope for the continued survival of the Philippine eagle, hope that if people get together for the cause of the eagle, it shall not be doomed to die,” says Salvador, who was named one of the outstanding young men (TOYM) in 2000 for leadership in wildlife conservation.
Salvador – which translates to “savior” in Spanish – strongly believes that the destiny of the Philippine eagle is linked to forest preservation. A pair of this critically endangered species requires a minimum of 7,000 to 13,000 hectares of forest for nesting, as reported by the UN Food and Agriculture Organization. “The forest is its only habitat,” Salvador asserts. “Without the forest, the species cannot survive over the long term.”
Aside from deforestation, another threat to the survival of the country’s bird icon is hunting. “Some do it because of ignorance but most, I believe, because of arrogance,” Salvador points out. “People believe they can get away with it so they do it. This of course is aggravated by poor enforcement of the law and clear lack of political will.”
Salvador – whose academic background is agricultural economics (from the University of the Philippines at Los Baños) and agribusiness (from the Ateneo de Davao University) – joined the eagle foundation in 1987. “It was a very tumultuous period for the organization,” he recalls.
During that period, the eagle camp – as it was referred to then – was situated in barangay Baracatan in Toril. Salvador was responsible for the eagles’ food supply. Salvador was in-charge of the eagles’ foods. “Every week, I had to go down to the town and purchase native chickens and goats,” he says. “I loaded them up to the roof of the public jeepney then rode along with them all the way to Baracatan. But the jeepney terminal was about two kilometers away from the camp so I had to carry the chickens on my back while pulling the goats.”
Given that insurgency was at its height during that time, they frequently found themselves isolated, as neighbors would evacuate to safer centers. “At night, we would dread hearing the dogs barking because that meant that rebels were just around the corner,” he says.
Another challenge they encountered during that time came from a government agency. “They were hot on our heels trying their best to take the eagles from us and relocating the entire operation to a state university in Luzon,” Salvador shares. “In the end, they simply stopped funding the project.”
The media’s focus and the backing from the local government unit of Davao City prevented the agency from taking the eagles, resulting in their decision to leave the team unsupported. It was only after a few howitzer shells landed approximately 50 meters from their facility that they ultimately chose to vacate Baracatan and relocate to Malagos.
During that period, the technical team consisted of merely six members, three of whom were from the government agency. When the agency ceased funding the program in 1987, the three personnel also departed.
Despite the lack of financial support, the group continued to persevere. “We were basically operating on nothing,” Salvador says. “We had to sell some of our personal belongings just to feed the eagles. We waived our salaries for over a year. We solicited from local businesses to make ends meet. In addition, we had to work under adverse conditions as we were often caught in the middle of the crossfire between the military and the rebels operating in the Mt. Apo area.”
Despite all these setbacks, Salvador and his team continued. “Many of the technical problems we encountered from the beginning were resolved from constant experimentation, from trial and error, but always using the rigor of sound scientific research,” he says.
In 1992, Salvador became the executive director of the foundation. Also in the same year, the center was able to breed an eagle in captivity. “The success of the birth of Pag-asa attracted biologists and other young graduates into the program. They were amazed to find out that what we were doing was not the way they were featured in the movies or television channels,” he says. “Working with eagles was hard, dangerous work.”
Salvador says with pride of what he and his team have accomplished through the years. “The success of captive breeding of the eagle Pag-asa brought the country’s attention to the plight of the species and was probably instrumental in turning the species into our national bird,” he points out.
Christy Ullrich, in an article which appeared in National Geographic, reported that several steps are currently going in the country to save the Philippine eagle from oblivion. “Certain conservation measures are already in place to help protect the comparatively scant number of surviving eagles. Legislation has been passed to prohibit hunting and protecting nests, as well as to survey the birds’ habitat, create public-awareness campaigns, and step up captive breeding. The bird inhabits the protected areas of the northern Sierra Madre Natural Park on Luzon and Mt. Kitangland and Mt. Apo Natural Parks on Mindanao.”
In other parts of the island, most of the nest sites the foundation worked with are continued to be protected by local people. “We worked with the people in these communities by building partnerships with them,” Salvador says.
The foundation achieves its objectives through a food-for-work initiative within reforestation programs, enhancing capacity via training, providing access to essential services and alternative livelihoods, and assisting in the construction of tribal halls, classrooms, and community water impoundment projects.
Indeed, Salvador has traveled a significant distance in his life. Born in Manila, he spent his formative years in Davao. He fondly recalls his summer vacations in his father’s hometown of Morong, Rizal, where he engaged in activities such as exploring the fields, climbing trees, and fishing in the river. After the family relocated to Mindanao, he accompanied his father on duck hunting excursions, during which he acquired the basics of responsible gun handling and ownership.
It was during his high school years that Salvador received his own firearm from his father as a birthday present. “My brother and I immediately set out to shoot small birds with great success,” he recalls. “We proudly showed our catch to our mom but to our horror, she ordered us to butcher the birds. Then, she cooked them and demanded the two of us to eat them.”
After the two brothers consumed the whole thing, the mother talked with her two sons and told them to never take anything from nature unless they are badly needed. “I guess that was my first lesson in conservation,” he says now.
“My own love affair with the eagles started only when I began working with them,” he admits. “The eagles are such charismatic creatures that once you start working with them, they seem to grab hold of you and then you realize that you’ve spent a great deal of your life with them.”
