Regular readers will have detected a passion in my writings for the underdog. Whether it be the imminent extinction of vultures, or the heroic few who battle to protect the least lovable creatures of all, crocodiles and sharks – I have always been drawn to defend wildlife that is little-known, apparently unimportant, even shunned – or at least, ignored.

No single group of species fits this classification so well as the endemics of the UK Overseas Territories.

The ‘territories’ are islands scattered across the globe in literally the most remote of places.  Some are volcanic, like Tristan da Cunha, in the south Atlantic – the most isolated inhabited set of islands on the planet (population under 300). The United Kingdom snagged this speck of a place from under the noses of the French, who – it’s said – were planning to use the place as a springboard to liberating Napoleon from his island prison of St. Helena…. which, too, is one of the UK’s Overseas Territories (pop. under 5000). There’s Ascension Island, which is mainly a military base, in the same general area of the Atlantic…and the coral atoll of the Pitcairn Islands in the Pacific Ocean, home of the descendants of the mutineers of the Bounty (yes, like the film)  - only a few dozen people live there. But then there are some much better known places like Bermuda and the Falkland Islands.

What these places have in common, though, are….

1. Relative – or extreme – remoteness
2. Chronic neglect, or at best, a lack of interest by the British government (with the spectacular exception of the Falklands with the UK-Argentina war of 1982)
3. A fabulous range of unique birds and plants…
4. …which are being crowded out and shuffled into oblivion

What’s going on?

Well, firstly, islands often have ‘endemics’ – animal or plant species found nowhere else. They evolve in a different direction from related individuals on the mainland and end up looking and acting quite different. They are on a small amount of territory to begin with, and the bird species are often defenseless – even flightless – and often very tame. They are therefore sitting ducks, so to speak, when rats, dogs, cats and pigs are introduced by man, or when we decide to hunt them. In addition, when we visit these isolated places we often bring seeds of foreign plants on our clothing or in our food – and these invasive species radically alter the native flora, smothering the endemic plants and starving out the animals that live there.

So there is a sorry list of small birds that are teetering on the edge of extinction. Some have fallen already. St. Helena had eight endemic bird species, and only one is left – the St. Helena wirebird, now itself critically endangered because it is eaten by escaped cats (I have written on the lethal nature of feral cats before) and a deterioration in its habitat.

The invasive plant species are in danger of squeezing out unique plants too: St. Helena has 49 one-of-a-kind plants, Ascension has six endemic ferns, all endangered, and Bermuda’s special plants are threatened by vigorous plant and insect pests (there is a good review here).

Okay, you might say, so what? I’ve never heard of these places, let alone the what-did-you-call-it wirebird. And a fern is even less important, right?

For me, it is their obscurity and apparent unimportance that matters. The pathetic nature of these tiny scraps of life, evolving on their own for millennia and snuffed out like a discarded candle by man’s carelessness…I feel bereft. The people living there want to protect them too – ecotourism will bring real money to these backwaters; but I confess it is for their very nature, their very individuality, that I love them.

Whether they are where they are by the gentle hand of the Creator, or by the fascinating randomness of evolution, or a bit of both – these Uniques of Uniqueness need us more than ever.

Read more about how you can help on the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds website.