Rare species of insects and plants are not revealed to public for fear of
poaching

By DAVID FLESHLER, Sun-Sentinel
Web-posted: 12:23 a.m. Sep. 3, 2000

In a secret South Florida location, known only to a few government
officials and nature enthusiasts, flies the last known colony of Miami
Blue butterflies.

News of the rare insect's existence, years after it was last seen in
the United States, appeared in the spring issue of American
Butterflies. But the authors refused to say where they were
discovered. The reason: Fear of poachers.

The Miami Blues are among several species of plants and animals
whose exact locations are kept confidential for their own protection.
They are the secrets of Florida's parks and preserves, forbidden facts
held by a handful of government officials, biologists and others with a
need to know.

Attempting to defend dwindling natural resources, they run a sort of
witness-protection program for rare orchids, ferns, butterflies and
other forms of life that people steal for their collections. They refuse
to discuss their locations (or in some cases, acknowledge their
existence). They route nature trails away from them. They keep
documents confidential or avoid committing much information to
paper for fear of open-records laws.

Few places have suffered more plant poaching than the
Fakahatchee Strand State Preserve, a dark and swampy forest about
80 miles west of Fort Lauderdale. Guarded by snakes, alligators and
clouds of mosquitoes, the preserve is home to the elusive ghost
orchid, whose graceful white flowers bloom only in deep shade.

It was here that John Laroche ran the poaching operation depicted
in the bestseller The Orchid Thief. Caught by the preserve's manager
as he lugged garbage bags and pillow cases of orchids into a truck,
Laroche paid the maximum fine of $500 and agreed to stay out of
the preserve for six months.

Avoiding collection

Today, staff biologist Mike Owen imposes security measures worthy
of an intelligence service. When he takes visitors to see the
preserve's remaining ghost orchids, he avoids the most direct route.
He leads them in circles. He goes north. He goes south. By the time
they arrive at the rare white flowers, visitors haven't the faintest idea
where they are. That means they can't come back and snatch the
orchids.

"I'm only doing it that way to protect the plant," Owen said. "It's a
shame we have to do it, but we're forced to keep the exact locations
secret. I've had some of my plants collected, and it hurts."

Owen is careful. He makes no maps, except during his time off,
when he would argue that the document is not covered by the state's
open-records law. When examining a rare plant near Jane's Scenic
Drive, the main road through the preserve, he keeps an eye out for
cars and stops working until the vehicle passes out of sight.

Despite his precautions, plants vanish. Last year, it was a
night-scented orchid, which emits its strongest scent in the darkness
to attract moths. After studying the plant for three years, Owen arrived
one day to find it gone. Someone had used a chain saw to cut down
the cabbage palm from which it hung.

"It really tears you up," Owen said. "I was getting data on it, the
number of pods, and I only had three years worth of data."

In Palm Beach County, guardians of natural resources worry most
about fern collectors. A rare species called the hand fern, which has
droopy leaves in the shape of a human hand, can be found on about
half of the county-owned natural areas, such as Frenchman's Natural
Forest Area, Yamato Scrub and Royal Palm Beach Pines Natural Area.

"I don't want to give out the exact locations," said Steve Farnsworth,
an environmental analyst with Palm Beach County Natural Resource
Management. "I'm not sure anyone knows where they all are, except
for me."

Worried about collectors, the county routes trails away from the
ferns, as well as away from celestial lilies, four-petal pawpaws and
other rare plants.

"The rarity tends to drive the desire," said Farnsworth. "It's a big
coup. It's something to show all your friends. You get fern collectors
that are the same way as orchid collectors. They want one of
everything."

A few years ago, he said, members of the Native Plant Society went
to Fort Lauderdale to look at a clamshell orchid that had been
discovered growing naturally. A week or two later, it vanished. No one
knows whether a member of the society took it or whether a member
mentioned the orchid to someone else who took it, Farnsworth said.

"That's why you've got people who don't want to reveal locations,"
Farnsworth said. "I'm not going to say where it was, because I don't
want anybody going down there."

Sensitive issues

Broward County's rare plants have vanished at a high rate because
of collectors and development.

The county still has a few unusual plants, such as cow horn and
clamshell orchids, Florida tree ferns and bird's nest spleen worts. But
Gil McAdam, the county's coordinator of environmentally sensitive
lands, flatly refuses to discuss them.

"Very sensitive subject," McAdam said. "I would feel very
uncomfortable saying what we have."

The county restricts access to areas near rare plants, he said. Even
so, they disappear.

"When it happens, in spite of your best efforts, you feel violated as
a steward of public lands," he said. "And having been here 26 years,
I've felt that way."

No one knows how much poaching takes place. Arrests are rare, and
penalties are light, unless the theft involves animals protected under
the federal Endangered Species Act. Stealing plants or butterflies from
state lands is a second-degree misdemeanor, punishable by a
maximum fine of $500, said Capt. Carl Nielsen, district commander
for the state Department of Environmental Protection.

Federal prosecutions are also rare. Jorge Picon, senior agent in
Miami for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, said he knew of no
arrests involving plants in the last several years.

Poaching deterrent

The last big butterfly bust was in the mid-1990s, and it did frighten
the serious collectors. Federal agents arrested Richard J. Skalski,
Thomas Kral and Marc Grinnell for stealing 2,375 endangered
butterflies. The three men had roamed parks and preserves
throughout the United States, including Everglades National Park and
Loxahatchee National Wildlife Refuge, trading parcels of endangered
butterflies through the mails with little fear of prosecution.

"I myself got caught collecting in Florida's Everglades N.P. and twice
in Loxahatchee N.W.R., but got away with it each time, simply
claiming ignorance of the laws," Skalski wrote in a letter to Kral,
according to the indictment.

Skalski got six months in jail and a $3,000 fine. Kral and Grinnell
got probation, community service and $3,000 fines.

"It created some degree of respect for the prohibitions in the
Endangered Species Act," said Dave Martin, a biologist for the U.S.
Fish and Wildlife Service.

But for butterflies that lack such protection, secrecy is necessary.

When Jane Ruffin, a Pennsylvania butterfly enthusiast, sighted
some Miami Blues in South Florida last November, she was thrilled.
The rare insects hadn't been seen in the United States for eight
years. She sent her photos to Jeffrey Glassberg, president of the
North American Butterfly Association, in Morristown, N.J. He flew down
for a look, and together they published the news in American
Butterflies.

"We have very reluctantly decided not to divulge the location of this
colony of Miami Blues at this time," they wrote. "Unfortunately,
although we would love to share this information with all others who
would like to visit and view the Miami Blues, there is nothing that
would stop an unethical collector from devastating this tiny colony."

Needed protection

The association filed an emergency petition with the U.S. Fish and
Wildlife Service in July to list the Miami Blue as an endangered
species. That would give the insects considerable federal protection,
threatening poachers with fines and prison. At this point, only a dozen
people know the butterflies' location, Martin said.

Even though he declined to reveal the butterflies' home in his
article, Glassberg generally opposes keeping such things secret.
Serious collectors find plants and butterflies anyway, he said, and it's
wrong to hide natural treasures that belong to everyone.

"It's a losing battle," he said. "It's difficult to galvanize people to
work for something if they can't see them. Ultimately, these things
are only going to be saved by enough people caring about them."

Still, he said it would be safer to allow locations to become public if
the laws protecting rare wildlife were stronger. The federal Endangered
Species Act carries tough penalties for poaching, but that does not
help rare plants or animals not listed under the act.

"The penalties for collecting these things need to be a thousand
times greater," Glassberg said. "If you collect an endangered orchid,
they should throw you in jail for three years and give you a $50,000
fine. It's a much more serious transgression against the future of this
country than breaking into a jewelry store and stealing $10,000 worth
of diamonds."

Staff Researcher Kathryn Pease contributed to this article.

David Fleshler can be reached at dfleshler@... or
954-356-4535.