The Isle of Man has one of the world’s cutest problems. And no one knows how to deal with it.
The Isle of Man has one of the world’s cutest problems. And no one knows how to deal with it.
Back in the 1960s, a couple of adventurous, red-necked wallabies escaped from a wildlife park on the Isle of Man and never looked back. Instead of hopping home, they evaded capture and started their own feral colony, right there in the middle of the Irish Sea. Now, decades later, they’ve built quite an impressive family: According to a survey conducted last year, there are more than 560 of them roaming the island, far more than anyone expected.
“They’re what we call, ‘charismatic megafauna,’” says Graham Makepeace-Warne, head of engagement for Manx Wildlife Trust. The organization is working to document the impact the wallabies have on the island’s ecosystem. “They’re big, fluffy, cute things—and they do support our tourism industry, to an extent. People love to go on a wallaby walk.”
While Makepeace-Warne couldn’t say exactly how much the wallabies contribute to tourism, they certainly have some fans. I recently visited to walk part of the Raad ny Foillan coastal path and didn’t make it to the northern part of the island to see them for myself, but I’m told it’s easy to spot them if you just know where to look. My guide from Go-Mann Adventures, Andrew Foxon, certainly knows where they like to hang out, and operates a Norse and World War II history “and maybe wallabies” walking tour.
To date, the island has taken a hands-off policy, not taking steps to manage the population in any way. But all the adoring fans in the world can’t turn them into an endemic species, and they may now be the country’s sweetest yet most confounding problem. When the survey revealed the size of the population last year, “it really changed the rhetoric overnight. People are normally like, ‘leave them alone,’” Makepeace-Warne says, but now, more people are starting to question whether it’s time to step in. After the survey, Manx Wildlife Trust released a position statement outlining the island’s choices: eradicate the wallabies, manage them, or do nothing.
“Views range greatly from ‘cull them all’ or ‘fence them in,’ to ‘make them a headline visitor attraction’ and ‘recognize them as a useful conservation grazing animal,’” the position statement says of residents’ mixed feelings, adding that they’re “arguably now a part of Manx culture.”
Aside from being charismatic and adorable, it’s possible the wallabies actually do earn their keep, in a way. The Isle of Man doesn’t have any deer, so when the wallabies graze on wild grasses, they may be filling a conservation niche. But of course, there’s a counterpoint to every potential benefit. For all the good their grazing may do, they’re also munching the buds of coppiced hazel trees into oblivion. And while they don’t pose a direct threat to livestock the way wolves, foxes, or mountain lions would (not that the Isle of Man has any of those), they’ve been known to knock down fences, which allows livestock to escape and mess around with habitats where they’re not meant to be.
“They don’t tend to jump over fences, like you might think they would,” Makepeace-Warne says, “they tend to throw themselves into them.”
The wallabies may also be an issue for the island’s population of hen harriers, which are ground-nesting birds—not exactly the best place to nest undisturbed when there are a bunch of 18-kilo fluff sacks hopping around.
Then there’s the Isle of Man TT, widely acclaimed as the world’s most dangerous motorsport race. Motorcycle riders can top 150 miles per hour (240 kph) on some sections of the island’s town and country roads. A rider has never hit a wallaby during the race, but a collision would be catastrophic for both parties. During the race, marshals stake out areas where the wallabies are known to hang out, Makepeace-Warne says, so they can scare them away and prevent them from trying to cross the road.
But here’s the real kicker: the wallabies are also a bit of a danger to themselves. It’s possible that one or two more escaped from other private collections after the original pair got loose in the ‘60s, but even still, that’s an incredibly small gene pool for the population to work with. They’ve inbred so much that many of the wallabies have birth defects like blindness, which adds an ethical element to the puzzle of whether to manage the population proactively.
“There is a welfare argument for controlling them,” Makepeace-Warne says, which could theoretically include bringing in additional wallabies to diversify the gene pool.
Ultimately, the decision will be up to the island’s Department of Environment, Food, and Agriculture. One option could be to capture, neuter, and release the females, Makepeace-Warne says, but for now, the island is still in the data collection phase.
The original wallaby survey conducted last year was focused on just one area where they’re known to congregate, so there may well be quite a few more hanging out elsewhere on the island. The survey team is coming back this spring to do an all-island count. “We really just want to get more data, more information to understand the situation, and get the right people around the table,” Makepeace-Warne says.
In the meantime, it seems the population is happy to keep growing if nothing gets in their way.
“It’s a really good habitat for them,” Makepeace-Warne says. “It’s really similar to their natural habitat back home, probably just wetter and colder.”
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Kassondra Cloos is a travel journalist from Rhode Island now living in London. Her work focuses on slow travel, urban outdoor spaces and human-powered adventure. She has written about kayaking across Scotland, dog sledding in Sweden and road tripping around Mexico. Her latest work appears in The Guardian, Backpacker and Outside, and she is currently section-hiking the 2,795-mile England Coast Path.
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