Photographing Critically-Endangered Fijian Iguanas: A Trip Report

Thousands of miles from their nearest iguanid relatives, and across the Pacific Ocean, live the marvelous, critically-endangered Fijian iguanas. I was fortunate to find and photograph two of these species during my time in Fiji. With their extreme rarity and remote populations, almost no high-quality photographs of wild specimens are published.

In this trip report, I will share the adventure behind capturing these rare images, some of which are the first of their kind.

The Fijian iguanas, genus Brachylophus, are represented by several species of two distinct forms: the banded iguanas and the crested iguanas. As their name suggests, they call the paradise-like islands of Fiji in the South Pacific home.

I call them “marvelous” for several reasons, beginning with their impressive aesthetics – bold, brightly-colored, large lizards – and because it is simply a biogeographical marvel that they exist at all. All species of Fijian iguanas are considered critically endangered, and they no longer live in most of their historic range. Even where they persist, they struggle with ongoing threats.

The main cause of their decline? Non-native predators. Specifically rats, cats, dogs, mongooses, and pigs. Historically the Fijian Islands had few predators, limited to a couple birds of prey. The only native mammals to the islands are bats. Many of the species that evolved on the islands did so without the pressures of mammalian predators.

Tragically, shortly after the islands were colonized, a plethora of new predators were introduced to the islands, and the iguanas made for easy meals. They also had to contend with new threats of logging and poaching. The once-common iguanas were pushed to the edge of extinction.

Today, only a select few remote and relatively predator-free islands are still inhabited by iguanas. But even knowing where they live doesn’t make them easy to find.

My Quest for the Fijian Banded Iguana

As a reptile enthusiast, to put it mildly, I was really hoping to get the opportunity to photograph wild Fijian Iguanas. Because of their rarity and limited range, however, I didn’t get my hopes high. With the crucial help of some folks in Fiji with whom I was interning, I had the opportunity to visit two islands where these iguanas are still findable. First was my quest to find and photograph the Fijian Banded Iguana.

In Fiji, much of the undeveloped land is stewarded by the traditional village communities that live there. Going to these remote areas where the iguanas live requires staying at traditional villages, which comes with some formalities. To protect the iguanas from potential poachers (the iguanas can go for several thousand dollars), I will not be disclosing the name of the Islands or villages I visited.

When visiting a traditional village, it is customary to proceed with a Sevusevu ceremony upon arrival. In the ceremony, the visitor presents a gift (specifically a nice hunk of kava root) to the village chief to ask for permission to stay, or proceed with whatever it is you came to do. In my case, that was to find and photograph iguanas.

Prior to departure, I made a stop at the kava shop and bought a nice $50 hunk of bundled kava root. For those unfamiliar with kava, it is a root that is ground up and mixed with water to make drink that gives you a mild to considerable relaxing buzz (depending on how many bowls you drink)! It is a very integral part of the Fijian culture.

After getting picked up by a boat and settling in the village, the village headman directed me to the community hall where I would present my kava, ask for permission to proceed with my mission, and give my thanks to the village.

The community hall was a furniture-free room decorated with colorful mats and weaved décor. I sat across from the chief and village elders on the ground. And the ceremony commenced. The village headman said some words in Fijian while we listened.

Next it was my turn to talk. I introduced myself and told them how wonderful and lucky it is that the iguanas or “Vokai” live alongside them. I asked for permission to conduct my photography and search for the iguanas. I thanked them for allowing me to visit and explore their island. Lastly I thanked them for taking excellent care of their island which is much of the reason why the iguana persists there.

The last part of the Sevusevu ceremony is to drink from the kava bowl together. Sitting in a circle, a bowl is passed around from which everyone takes their serving of kava from the big pot. When a bowl is handed to you, you clap once, say “Bula!” enthusiastically, and drink your bowl. Once you finish you clap three times and say “Vinaka” which is to say thank you.

It leaves a numbing sensation in your mouth and yields a sense of calm. Several bowls in, and you may start to slow down a bit and nod off. It can get tricky to walk perfectly straight. Fiji has a very laid-back culture, and certainly kava plays a role in that!

That concluded the Sevusevu ceremony. Before looking for iguanas, however, I was recommended to perform one more ritual by the village children. They walked me through the forest to a small church house in the woods where there was a wishing book. They swore every wish would come true that was written in it and so the kids directed me to write my wish, name, address, and phone number in the book. Then they had me write the wish again on a popsicle stick and bury it in some dirt under a tarp and we prayed.

My wish? To find and photograph the Fijian banded iguana!

With that, it was time to begin the search. The best search method is to shine powerful flashlights high into the canopy at night. The iguanas are too camouflaged to spot easily in the day because they stay at the treetops most of the time. But at night, a flashlight reflects the light off their bellies in a way that makes them stand out from the surrounding leaves.

The first night, sadly, yielded no iguanas. However, we saw many Fijian Ground Frogs, which are also critically endangered for much of the same reasons as the iguanas. They are a sign of a healthy forest ecosystem.

I was disappointed to have missed the iguanas the first night, but I maintained hope for night two.

The second night was much more successful, but bittersweet. We spotted two iguanas, both of which were close to 100ft high, sleeping in the canopy. Not much to do in the way of photography with that. I was ecstatic to have gotten to witness one of the rarest lizards in the world in the wild, but no doubt I was missing the photos I so badly wanted to capture of the species.

I decided to extend my stay an extra night for one last chance at finding a Banded Iguana at a reachable height. The night began with a moderate rain that made looking upwards into the canopy feel like getting waterboarded. With time, the rain subsided, and it became easier to continue the search.

Not long after, I spotted the bright green outline of a large lizard resting in the leaves above me. An iguana! My heart started beating faster as I realized this individual was much lower than the others.

Improving matters, there was even a climbable tree slanted towards the iguana I could shimmy up to get closer. The lizard was about 40 feet off the ground (12 meters), but by climbing up 25 feet and using a 15-foot stick, I was able to safely do a photoshoot with the iguana.

I was absolutely blown away by the bright green scales and blue bands. Its face, clean of blemishes, looked like your “picture perfect” lizard. An inquisitive lizard, it kept a close eye on my diffuser as I worked to perfect the lighting in my shots.

I first elected to capture some close-ups of the head and shoulders with the OM System 90mm f/3.5 Macro lens (below). Next, I shot with the Olympus 8-25mm f/4 for a more intimate perspective (above).

Shortly after, the iguana was back asleep in the safety of its treetop dwelling. I was overjoyed with a feeling of accomplishment and gratitude for having gotten to witness one of the rarest and most stunning lizards in the world. Just as special is getting to share its beauty with the world, in order to shed light on this special but highly endangered species.

From the Sevusevu ceremony to the wishing-book ritual, and the whole adventure of visiting this village where I was hosted by some of the kindest people I’ve met, made for an incredibly gratifying feeling.

My Quest for the Fijian Crested Iguana

After photographing the Banded Iguana, I had one more iguana to target, the Fijian crested iguana. To find this species, I made the long trek to a remote island which is one of the last strongholds of the species, with an estimated population between 10,000 and 15,000 individuals. It is home to over 90% of the entire Crested iguana population.

Reaching this island was no simple task and had to be done alongside an expedition with the National Trust of Fiji, because the island is otherwise off-limits to the public. Our group took several taxis and ferries with close to 10 hours of travel spread over two days before arriving at this remote locale.

Once again, our team was hosted by a traditional village where a Sevusevu ceremony was held to pay respects and gratitude to our hosts and guides. Then it was onto the island – complete with a boat ride with stunning views as we passed over vibrant coral reefs.

In contrast to the Banded Iguana, which was a challenge to find in the forest, we were greeted by iguanas almost immediately after stepping foot on the island. It was a breath of fresh air to not worry about falling out of a tree to my death just to photograph a rare lizard!

Finding these lizards in the day as opposed to the night allowed for the possibility to take my favorite types of photos: herp in habitat shots! I used a wide-angle lens, the Olympus 8-25mm f/4, to capture the island in the background while keeping the iguana large in the foreground.

What I Take Away

For the most part, as a wildlife and herp photographer, the species I photograph have been photographed by others several times over with modern cameras and high-quality technique. The same can’t entirely be said about these iguanas, however. Certainly, some researchers out there have photos of this species in private portfolios. But, as far as I can tell, what you see in this article are the only published photos of wild Fijian Iguanas captured with modern cameras and good photographic technique up-close.

More than anything, I feel incredibly fortunate to share the beauty of these rarely-seen iguanas with the world. Still, I can’t help but feel concerned that taking more photos like this will only become more challenging as their numbers continue to drop.

The invasion of non-native predators is a huge problem, but instead of focusing only on the negative, this report would be incomplete without highlighting the biggest reason these iguana populations are still hanging in there: the unwavering conservation work by local communities.

Neither of the islands I visited would have iguanas today if it wasn’t for the help of the local traditional villages, which have been an integral part of eradication efforts against non-native predators. In addition, their sustainable lifestyle allows them to live alongside nature without plundering the habitat. They rely on their land and the sea for food, water, and so much more. Their commitment to preserving the natural heritage of their land is fierce.

It is a reminder that the most successful conservation practices always involves the participation and leadership of local communities. And a reminder that a respect, understanding, and love for nature is crucial to reach that point. Don’t we all rely on our communal lands for food, water, and the many other ecosystem services? When the rest of the world has the appreciation, understanding, and love for nature as I saw in the people of these villages in Fiji, we will see much-needed ecological improvement across the world.

I left Fiji with a confidence that the future of the iguanas is in good hands, and a hope that the rest of the world can appreciate the fruits of their commitment to conservation through these photos. I had visited these islands to capture photos of the iguanas, and I left not only with the images I had set out to capture, but also with a deeper understanding of life and ecological balance in general.

The children and elders of the village reminded me to slow down in life. It is such a laid-back culture that is a huge contrast to the fast-paced, “try-hard” lifestyle many of us are familiar with in Western Society. I’ve never felt as much peace as when I was sitting in the village, disconnected from phone service, surrounded by the village children just eating chips and drinking soda. Not much had to be said. Just smiles, chips, and a giggle here or there. The sun was out, the trees rustled, it would rain soon. Life was good.