Planter of Seeds
Charlie Welch retiring after 35 years of Madagascar conservation work
Planter of Seeds
Charlie Welch retiring after 35 years of Madagascar conservation work
When conservation expert Charlie Welch introduces people to Madagascar, he leads them through rainforests and wildlife preserves to photograph the island鈥檚 iconic lemurs, but then he makes a stop, near the coastal city of Tamatave, by a very specific tree.
鈥淚t's one that's close to my heart,鈥 Welch said. That because it鈥檚 one of the first trees he planted, from a seed, at , a zoo and forestry station that he and his wife Andrea Katz 鈥77 helped revitalize in the late 1980s.
At the time, 鈥渢here really there wasn鈥檛 much left in terms of natural forest on the station at all,鈥 Welch said. Brambles and exotic pines had taken hold, blocking out the Malagasy species.
Now some 40 feet tall, the tree -- known locally as hafopotsy -- is one of tens of thousands of native species he and others have planted over the years on the 700-acre station.
Now, after overseeing in Madagascar for the for 35 years, Welch is retiring.
Reflecting on his decades-long career in conservation, Welch said, 鈥淚t鈥檚 not what a lot of people envision.鈥
For most people, a career in conservation conjures images of days spent tromping in the woods following wildlife. But ask him what it takes to work in this field and his answer paints a different picture altogether.
鈥淚t鈥檚 mostly working with people,鈥 Welch said. He estimates he spends 90% of his time working with everyone from villagers to animal caretakers to teachers to government officials, trying to understand and address their needs.
鈥淵ou have to convince the local people that it鈥檚 in their own interest to protect their forests,鈥 Welch in a 2015 TEDx talk. 鈥淚f you don鈥檛, you haven鈥檛 created something that鈥檚 really sustainable, that will last in the years to come.鈥
Endowment Fund Created in Honor of Couple's Service
The Duke Lemur Center has created an endowment fund to commemorate the retirements of Charlie Welch and Andrea Katz
Welch first came to Madagascar in 1987, when the country鈥檚 government, after years of to Western scientists, enlisted him and Katz to try to help rebuild , which had been badly damaged by a cyclone the previous year.
Their first task was to help the park staff get more comfortable with the day-to-day care of the zoo鈥檚 captive lemurs, which had been confiscated from the illegal wildlife trade, and whose cages had been torn apart by the storm.
鈥淏ut Andrea and I felt like there was a lot of potential there beyond that,鈥 Welch said.
Building relationships and gaining trust took time. 鈥淲e were pretty naive in the beginning,鈥 Welch said. 鈥淲e had to really learn that the conservation problems go back to poverty and people just trying to eke out a living on the land and feed their families.鈥
He joined the local Rotary Club. Gradually he learned to get by in French and a sprinkling of Malagasy, spoken with a southern drawl through his signature walrus mustache.
His lanky 6-foot-2 frame earned him the nickname 鈥淟avabe.鈥 鈥淚t means 鈥榖ig tall guy,鈥欌 Welch said.
Later, after their daughter was born, he became 鈥淧apa Alena.鈥 鈥淚t鈥檚 common to call people by the name of their firstborn child,鈥 Welch said. 鈥淚 was happy to be Papa Alena.鈥
The couple would live and work in Madagascar for 15 years -- until 2004 -- both for the and in partnership with the , a consortium of zoos and other institutions committed to protecting wildlife in the country.
Over time, they and the Malagasy staff they trained took what had been a crumbling former forestry station with a single animal keeper, and transformed it into a nationally recognized center for conservation, captive breeding and environmental education with dozens of employees. Today its lemurs and other wildlife attract as many at a year.
In recognition of their service at Parc Ivoloina and later, at a reserve called , Welch and Katz were made 鈥Knights of the National Order of Madagascar,鈥 one of the government鈥檚 highest honors.
"It took our presence there year after year, working with people, building their confidence in us and in the projects and what we were all trying to accomplish,鈥 Welch told Duke Today in 2004.
Welch grew up in the 1960s in Mississippi, and one of his first jobs in high school was at the Jackson zoo. He spent his summers there washing sidewalks, sodding grass, and unloading hay and feed for the animals. 鈥淚t was mostly manual labor,鈥 Welch said.
But over the years he worked his way up to being an animal keeper at other zoos in Georgia and Louisiana, and eventually he took a special interest in primates.
It was a chance visit to the Duke Primate Center, as it was then known, to exchange lemurs as part of a breeding program trade, where he met Katz.
Within a few years he had married and moved to North Carolina, earning a degree in zoology from North Carolina State University along the way.
While earning his degree he also worked as a field assistant for research projects on endangered spider monkeys and howler monkeys in Panama, Costa Rica and Ecuador, where he discovered he loved conservation and international field work.
鈥淟oss of biodiversity is not a problem that鈥檚 unique to Madagascar. It鈥檚 not a problem that鈥檚 even unique to developing countries,鈥 Welch in 2015.
鈥淓xtinction rates are a thousand times faster today than they were before humans were on the scene,鈥 .
More than 500 species of birds, frogs, mammals and reptiles are known to have disappeared in the last century. Another 500 could be wiped out in the next two decades alone, according to one .
Some of these species may be ones that pollinate our crops, or that keep pests or disease-carrying insects under control.
鈥淪pecies are interconnected,鈥 . 鈥淰ery often, when one species goes extinct, it affects other species.鈥
Welch admits that conservation can be a bleak calling.
In Madagascar alone, as many as of forest are lost each year, cut and burned to clear new land for farming. That鈥檚 roughly 15 football fields of forest lost every hour.
As the forest disappears, so does the habitat for Madagascar鈥檚 unique plants and animals. Nearly a third of all lemur species are now .
What gives him hope, he said, is the overall heightened awareness of nature鈥檚 plight.
That鈥檚 another seed he planted: Many of the Malagasy students who participated in the early environmental education programs at Parc Ivoloina have since become decision-makers in their own right.
鈥淭he appreciation of environmental issues has changed dramatically since the 1980s,鈥 Welch said. 鈥淭here's this whole generation of young people in Madagascar that are enthused about protecting the environment, protecting wildlife, understanding biodiversity.鈥
Now when he goes back to Madagascar, the familiar sound of crowing roosters in the wee hours of the morning, and the smell of ripe clove buds or eucalyptus smoke, still feel like home.
For the past 13 years the Lemur Center has focused its conservation work in an area of relatively unspoiled rainforest in the northeast called the .
Thanks to collaborations with Bass Connections, DukeEngage, and with faculty across campus, more than 100 Duke students have been involved in SAVA projects, ranging from investigating the health hazards of to studying the link between deforestation and .
After his retirement becomes official in summer 2025, Welch will stay involved with the Duke Lemur Center鈥檚 conservation work in an advisory role.
He also plans to lead another Duke Travels tour that includes , and this time not by land but by sea.
鈥淪o it's not like I'm disappearing,鈥 Welch said.
He鈥檚 looking forward to having more time for gardening, including managing the fruit and vegetable garden at the Duke Lemur Center.
鈥淚 call it a food forest,鈥 Welch said, showing off rows and rows of sumac shrubs, persimmons, redbuds and pawpaw seedlings -- all of which will yield fresh greens for the center鈥檚 leaf-loving lemurs.
鈥淲e've got a lot to take care of," Welch said.