Coqui Hormones, 3-Weeks Post Zap

[Note: This is another blog based on my weekly emails to my family on the mainland. Since much of my news these days relates to trying to age gracefully, this series might be called The Geezer Gazette.

3/7/26

 

Aloha Fellow Time Travelers!

 

Time to update you on my battle with one of my primo critter adversaries.

 

The Target

I've now caught 895 Coqui frogs. Nearly all of them were on our property, but I've also captured some from other house lots and gardens in the neighborhood.  Unfortunately they are prolific breeders and have no natural predators in Hawai'i (except humans like me), so they defy total eradication.  Ill probably hit 1000 sometime this year. I'm currently battling several that have moved into our front garden, so I'm likely to hit 900 soon.

 

Coquis are beloved in their home territory of Puerto Rico, where they're considered an informal mascot.  Here they are considered an invasive species and they do significant damage to our ecology, besides being loud and obnoxious (the call of just one Coqui can reach 95 decibels.).  One problem is that the lack of predators in Hawai'i has created densities that are 2-3 times greater than in Puerto Rico.  I wonder if Coquis would be so fondly regarded there if the numbers were as great as ours. 

 

Female on Left

Anyway, over the years I've become something of a "Coqui Whisperer," so I know their strengths and weaknesses.  One weakness is that they are ruled by their hormones, much like many humans. This leads them to behave in risky and self-defeating ways that allow "the Hand of Doom" to descend fatally upon them.  If conditions are right (a bit of rain and warm temperatures at night) the males' hormones kick in and theyMUST repeatedly call out their location to attract females.  That sound helps me to locate them as well, and that is a large part of catching them.  The males establish a broadcasting station early in the evening and they stick to it all night, even returning if they're disturbed by a marauding human.  Catching them while they're "singing" isn't a slam-dunk, however. Their call is so loud and narrowly focused that sound bounces off the nearby foliage and can seem like it's coming from one spot when it's really not.  Knowing their preferred types of locations for calling stations makes my job of grabbing them much easier.  I wear a headlight while hunting, and if I spot one I try to blind it and grab from behind. This must be quick, however, because they are very fast. There are other tricks that I've learned over the years, but I won't bore you with them.

 

So my battle goes on in this endless war.  The reward is a quieter evening and less ecological damage.  Plus a macho feeling of a successful hunt -- another example of being ruled by hormones I suppose.....

 

In Geezer Gazette news, Thursday marked my 3-week ablation anniversary.  I wish I could report that I feel great, much better than before.  But I can't because although I've only had a few short Abib episodes, I'm having some hefty side effects from the anti-arrhythmia drug that my surgeon prescribed.  Ironically, the effects are almost the same as I felt when I was in constant Afib.  In short, at the moment I've just exchanged one cause of feeling whacked for another.  The hopeful thing is that I only have to take this medication for another five days, and after that maybe I'll improve.

 

We've begun our prep for our trip despite the health issues.  Of course, another concern is that our "Peace" President will decide to take over either Panama, Colombia, or both.  Killed by friendly fire is not the way I want to die.....

 

That's it for this week.  Carpe Vitam!