Personal Reflections on the TCMF Review

 I grew up in Bergvliet and we had countless dog walks at Tokai, several times a week. I loved the plantations at Tokai, I enjoyed splashing in the water of the degraded canals in winter, using the homemade swings under the trees and attending birthday parties under the pines. As a child, running through the trees, I could imagine myself living in a fantasy story, such as Lord of the Rings.

I have as much of a claim as anyone to what we knew in the past as “Tokai Forest”.

Having had this formative experience means that I have a strong love for those pine plantations (though I never liked the gums personally). As a child especially, I preferred their shade to that of hiking in the open in the fynbos of the mountains. Therefore my claims to the cultural heritage of the plantations and a preference for shaded recreation are as strong as anyone else’s.

However, there is another side to this story. And this relates to the privilege of living in one of the world’s biodiversity hotspots and the world’s smallest floral kingdom: the Cape Floristic Region (which is also a World Heritage Site).

Several events of significance happened concerning Tokai Park over the course of my lifetime that have made me realise that Tokai Park is too precious to be bound by my ideas and preferences.

Why Tokai Park is special

In 1994, Nigel Forshaw discovered 11 Cape Flats Silkypuff plants in a sunlit patch between pine plantations. This species had, until now, been thought to be extinct on the Cape Flats. A fire later, and this population continues to thrive. In 1996, Sybil Morris wrote her article in Veld & Flora about the manifold bulbs and other unique and rare fynbos plant species managing to eke out a living on the edges of the plantations. In any patch with access to sunlight, fascinating fynbos plants were surviving, including Gladiolus tristis, Leucospermum conocarpodendron and various species of serruria and ericas.

These were early signs of how special Tokai was.

In the early 2000s, some plantation blocks were clear-felled with the purpose of restoration, and some plots were burned. Botanists surveyed the sites and were amazed by the ability of the fynbos to passively regenerate from soil seedbanks. Especially after restoration burns, where on average 7 species emerged passively per square meter following 100 years of pine plantations. At this point, Tokai was recognized by a Botanical Society study as one of the Core Conservation sites on the Cape Flats.

So Tokai Park appears to be particularly valuable from a biodiversity perspective. It forms part of Table Mountain National Park and is the last biodiversity corridor connecting mountain fynbos to Cape Flats Sand Fynbos. Lower Tokai Park contains over 550 native plant species, including some special, rare plants on the brink of extinction. To put this in perspective, the whole of Table Mountain National Park contains 2200 species of plants. Tokai Park has 550 in a comparatively tiny area of only 600ha.

It is not only the number of species that is important, but their significance in terms of endemism – which means that they occur nowhere else. Tokai Park has high plant endemism. 

Reflections on our great responsibility

Two facts: (1)  Tokai Park may be richer in terms of plant species than tropical rainforests  (often touted to be the world’s richest) and (2) Tokai Park is situated in Cape Town (with the second highest rate of plant extinctions in the world). This stunning realisation made me stop and reflect.

Are my recreational desires more important than saving species from the brink of extinction? As a South African, what is my role in taking a stand against biodiversity loss? What is my role as a steward of this natural heritage that we have been entrusted with?

It is our duty to protect biodiversity, especially plants and animals on the brink of extinction, and to place this before our desires for recreation.

But, that being said, I do not believe these matters (the desire for shaded recreation on the one hand and the duty to protect biodiversity on the other) need to conflict with each other. We are so fortunate that, in terms of shaded recreation in the southern suburbs of the Cape, there is no shortage. All the wealthy suburbs are filled with trees, and shade abounds. And 10 greenbelts abut Tokai Park, forming a network of about 18 km through the southern suburbs, all of them covered with trees (both indigenous to the Cape and alien).

There is no shortage of shaded recreation. And certainly our desires of shaded recreation should surely come second to our fellow Capetonians’ basic needs. Many poorer communities have basic needs that are not being met, never mind recreational needs. Surely we have a responsibility to our fellow Capetonians to seek the relief of their basic needs before spending this much energy on our own recreational desires which already have so many outlets?

International Obligations

We have another claim on our attention, a second responsibility. And this that South Africa is a signatory to both the Rio Conventions and Aichi Targets, and is committed to conserving 17% of each vegetation type for future generations (target 11) and preventing threatened species extinction (target 12).

Only 14% of the area of Cape Flats Sand Fynbos remains but less than 2% is in good condition, and only 1% is conserved. Tokai Park contains a large part of the Cape Flats Sand Fynbos (1%) that can be conserved and restored (targets 14 and 15). It is therefore a site of national importance and, because of its species richness, global significance. Therefore we have a duty to conserve this site under these international declarations.

In light of all these facts, I would like to petition the community for compromise. To compromise our desires for shaded recreation and make do with the existing wealth of shaded areas for shaded walking, and allow what remains of critically endangered Cape Flats Sand Fynbos to be restored.

Is transitional planting the solution?

Some have suggested that the proposed notion of transitional planting can achieve both biodiversity conservation and provide shaded recreation. This is not true. Transitional planting is ecologically unviable. The original framework was poorly negotiated as it did not consider critical ecological theory.

I often hear talk of transitional planting being about “indigenous trees”. It is critical to understand that there are no indigenous trees in fynbos, besides Silvertrees and Waboom, and neither are indigenous to sand fynbos. Other trees indigenous to the region are confined to fire-protected Afromontane forest in kloofs and thin strips of riparian zones along rivers. And some trees that are indigenous to South Africa are invaders of fynbos.

So it is important to understand that – though any trees proposed to be planted may be indigenous to the Cape or South Africa – they are not indigenous to fynbos and certainly not Cape Flats Sand Fynbos. Therefore, they cannot be called indigenous trees; they are alien trees.

Additionally, it is not known what impact transitional planting may have on fynbos seedbanks. Will it be a death warrant for some species? Some rare and unique bulbs, or spiderheads or ericas? This kind of transitional planting has not been done before in fynbos and we therefore have no idea what impact it may have. Should we play Russian roulette with our critically endangered species? We are busy finalising a modelling study on potential impacts of transitional planting, and the results are not looking good for biodiversity.

And lastly, we know that increasing biomass increases fire risk (i.e. fires in trees burn hotter than fynbos fires). Transitional planting could also place people and property near the park at greater risk. Who will take responsibility then?

A call to arms: Fighting biodiversity loss

In closing, I would like to call on everyone to “think before it’s gone”. At Tokai Park, both retaining plantations and transitional planting could spell the end for many species. Although the United Nations says that our relationship with nature is broken, I would beg to differ. I believe there are still many people who love our native species, and/or feel a strong responsibility and want to flatten the curve on biodiversity loss.

I also believe there are still some people left who would be able to sacrifice their preferences for recreation, to save some species. Saving species doesn’t happen “out there” in the Amazon or funding “save the whale” projects. It happens right here, at home. And the choice is ours.

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Alanna Rebelo is a postdoctoral researcher at Stellenbosch University. She is also a volunteer for the Friends of Tokai Park, a WESSA Friends group.