Saving Endangered Plants, One Orchid at a Time

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(Editor’s note: The President of the Malibu Orchid Society Birute Anne Vileisis, told this editor about an orchid species that was endangered because of a declining habitat. We often hear about extinct animal species, but the idea fascinated me that plants are also becoming extinct. Her essay was the 2016 winner in an essay contest and was published in the June 2017 American Orchid Society magazine. It is reprinted with permission and portions have been edited.)

The author with her exceptionally
well-grown specimen of Angraecum longicalcar
when it was donated to the Huntington.
Photograph by John Delfino.

By BIRUTE ANNE VILEISIS, Ph.D.

When I walk into my greenhouse nestled in my garden overlooking the Pacific Ocean at the top of the Santa Monica Mountains, a number of orchid genera greet me.

Although a preponderance of my collection of some 300 orchids belongs to the Cattleya Alliance, one group in particular has provided me with an immense sense of satisfaction and accomplishment and a feeling that I have made at least a small contribution to the world of orchid conservation.

I am referring to my small collection of angraecums, and specifically to the Angraecum longicalcar that was in my care for 11 years.

In June of 2005 when, as a relatively new member of the Malibu Orchid Society, I attended an orchid estate sale following the passing of John Christie, a past president of the society.

His widow had organized a sale of John’s orchids and I, not really knowing one species from another, selected a bunch of plants. One of those I purchased for $20 was a medium-sized plant with fresh green leaves and no flowers.

When I brought it home, I discovered that it had a clearly printed label. On one side: Angraecum longicalcar and on the reverse side, the name of the originating nursery: Hoosier Orchid Company, Indianapolis, Indiana. (Later I learned that this nursery in its heyday had in its inventory some incredibly rare plants; but sadly market forces subsequently closed its doors in 2008.) The orchid’s Latin name longicalcar is a descriptive reference to the flower’s long spur.

Armed with those few clues about the new plant I had just acquired, I began to read everything I could about angraecums. I purchased Hillerman and Holst’s 1986 Introduction to the Cultivated Angraecoid Orchids and read it cover to cover.

I learned that my new acquisition, Angraecum longicalcar, originated from the central highlands in the environs of Analavory in Madagascar with altitudes of 3,300 to 3,900 feet (1,000–1,190 m). According to Hillerman and Holst, this species grows “semiterrestrially among rocks on west- facing slopes, often in almost full sun.”

They added that in the greenhouse this orchid needed bright light, lots of humidity and good air movement. The authors said that “vegetatively Angraecum longicalcar conveys the impression of strength, viability, nobility and grandeur, and in our opinion makes an ideal specimen plant.”

How extraordinary, I had a plant that had the potential of becoming noble in its bearing!

From other sources, I also discovered that this species is now considered “critically endangered” and quite possibly verging on extinction in its natural habitat. Just the knowledge that I had a precious, endangered plant prompted in me a sense of responsibility. I needed to ensure that it grew well, that it thrived, and that it reached its full potential of “grandeur.”

In addition to the destruction of its habitat through logging, fires and mining, another possible reason for the decline of this species in its natural habitat, is the loss of its pollinator.

Brenda Oviatt and Bill Nerison in Orchids (2014) noted, “So many orchids have evolved with their pollinators in a complex and intricate way.” Could it be, they asked, “that in addition to all the other human-caused losses that there is a lack of reproduction due to the disappearance of pollinators?”

When I discovered photos of the flowering plant, I was further intrigued that one day I might see flowers with nectary spurs that could be even longer than those of the famed Angraecum sesquipedale.

Hillerman and Holst wrote that Angraecum longicalcar has a fantastic nectary spur, often 16 inches (about 41 cm) in length, and that “probably no other angraecoid could equal this species in spur-length development.”

But, alas, the flowers on my orchid would not be forthcoming so quickly. In the summer of 2009, I made a note in my inventory diary that the plant had nice long healthy leaves, but that it had not yet flowered in four years. Patience… patience…that’s what orchid growers learn.

In the meantime, I kept wondering whether I should repot my plant. When I asked more experienced growers about repotting it, they warned me against doing so, noting that this species often sulks after repotting. Thus, I postponed repotting it.

Finally, in the summer of 2011, I mustered up enough courage, handling its roots ever so gingerly, and giving it some new medium and a slightly larger pot. By January of the following year, it had begun sending out such an abundance of new growths with vigorous new leaves and a plethora of healthy thick roots that, in retrospect, I concluded that I should have repotted it sooner.

At long last, after nurturing this orchid for eight years, in June 2013, it rewarded me with the appearance of the tip of its first inflorescence [flower group]. What joy!

But that inflorescence developed ever so slowly over several months. Eventually it bloomed in October, opening up its glorious long-spurred flowers, just in time for the Southland Orchid Show at the Huntington Botanical Garden, where it won a First-Place ribbon.

I was so thrilled even with that single inflorescence. Then a friend at the show, who knew this species well, said it would produce even more in the following years.

Apparently, what I had at this stage was still just a young plant. Eventually that indeed came to pass the following year when it rewarded me with two inflorescences.

Off it went once again to the Huntington Show the following October where it was awarded another First-Place ribbon.

By the summer of 2015 my plant was obviously growing well. It was observably so happy in my newly expanded greenhouse that it started growing out of its pot once again. It was lush and so huge that it was badly in need of being repotted again.

This time with the help of a strong orchid friend we undertook its second repotting, ensuring that it had the best possible mix, imitating its natural habitat as best we could, with lots of large chunks of fir bark, some broken up tree fern, bits of charcoal, some gravel and a mixture of diatomaceous stones.

No inflorescences that year — yes, it did sulk for a while – but the new growth that the new mix promoted the following year was even more phenomenal than before.

Fast forward to this past summer; my vigorous orchid produced six new basal keikis (orchid babies) and another two glorious inflorescences that eventually touched the ceiling of my greenhouse. The plant was 4 ½ feet (1.4 m) tall and still growing. It was time to make a decision.

I had asked Brandon Tam, the Orchid Collection Specialist at the Huntington Botanical Gardens, whether he might have an interest in adding my Angraecum longicalcar to their collection, and he enthusiastically replied, “yes,” sight unseen!

And so, with the help of another orchid society friend, we carefully padded and tied down my beloved plant into his good-sized van for its third and final trip to the Huntington, some 46 miles (74 km) away.

Driving along Southern California freeways we took precautions all along the way that the two inflorescences would not break off. Indeed, it reached San Marino intact and unbruised.

Once we unloaded the plant into a staging area next to the Huntington orchid greenhouses, my friend and I watched with rapt attention as Tam removed the tiny pollinia and hand-pollinated the lowermost flowers of each inflorescence. He then tagged each flower with the date, 9/28/16.

It was the first official step to ensure future progeny of this critically endangered species for future generations.

Brandon then placed the newly pollinated Angraecum longicalcar onto a dolly and wheeled it off to its new home in the Huntington Conservatory. As I stood there admiring it and saying my silent wistful goodbyes to an orchid that I had nurtured for 11 years, I experienced the quiet joy of giving, knowing that in some small way I had contributed to the survival of this rare and endangered species.

Upon reflection I began to appreciate all that this small plant that I had adopted many years ago had taught me. I had become acquainted with the world of angraecums and started collecting and growing other related species. I began to appreciate the rhapsodic beauty and purity of these waxy star-like white flowers.

I became fascinated with Madagascar and read about its varied microclimates that provide such a diversity of growing areas for the various angraecoid species that grow there. I remembered my mentor, John Christie, and thought he would be pleased to know his orchid had flourished.

Then I joined in with greater understanding and empathy the lament that much of these native habitats were being destroyed Finally, I appreciated more deeply the importance of orchid conservation to ensure that future generations of orchid growers might enjoy the beauty of this species.

I recognized that each hobbyist orchid grower has the power to contribute to saving species that are critically endangered in their disappearing habitats. Even if only a handful of orchid growers from each of the 500 or so affiliated AOS orchid societies would devote themselves to growing one or two such orchids, what a difference we could make.

This orchid was considered critically endangered and on the verge of extinction. Angraecum longicalcar was nurtured by Birute Anne Vileisis for 11 years.

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