Coco’s Nest

At ʻĀina Iki Ranch, our ducks mostly identify by flock rather than by individual names. We currently have the Mama’s and the Papa’s, Home Team, Sillies, Newbies, GG’s (short for Goliath’s Gals), and then Mr. Dicky Duck, who neighbors up to GG’s but enjoys a section all to himself.

Last week, we noticed the Home Team’s egg count suddenly starting to dip. Around here, that usually points to one of two things: either the ducks are molting…or someone has gone broody.

Molting is basically a duck’s natural “reset and rebuild” cycle. Old feathers wear out over time, and ducks shed them so fresh new feathers can grow in. Since feathers are made mostly of protein, growing an entirely new coat is incredibly demanding on their little bodies — kind of like trying to grow all your hair and fingernails at once while still carrying on with your normal daily life.

That’s why egg production almost always slows down during a molt.

…but I wasn’t seeing feathers.

No patchy ducks. No fluff explosions. No obvious signs of molt.

🪶 An Example of Molting at AIR 🪶

Patchy feathers and all — this gal is in the middle of another molt, growing in a fresh new coat one feather at a time.

Which led me to watching the Home Team a little more carefully.

Every evening I make sure the flocks are tucked safely back into their sleeping zones for the night. But without fail, two or three of the Home Team gals always seem to magically wake up back in their grazing zone by morning. I never worried too much about it since that area is fenced and protected as well.

But once the egg count started dropping, I noticed something else too — our little fence hoppers weren’t showing up for breakfast anymore. Dinner? Oh, they came racing in for dinner every single evening.

That’s when I knew.

Somewhere out there, hidden beneath the grasses and brush, there had to be secret nests… and more than likely, a very impressive stash of hidden eggs.

With the help of Val and Joshua, we eventually found the main broody hen and her nest.

Eighteen eggs.

A whole hidden treasure trove tucked carefully away.

One evening while Mama hurried off to dinner, Val gently tended the nest and removed the non-viable eggs so the nest could remain intact and we wouldn’t lose track of it again. Because as many folks know… bad eggs smell terrible.

What I learned recently, though, is that they don’t just smell bad.

They explode.

If a spoiled egg isn’t kicked out of the nest quickly enough, eventually it can “pop,” coating the nest and causing the hen to abandon it altogether. Nature is beautiful… and occasionally horrifying.

With all the Home Team excitement unfolding, I soon discovered yet another broody hen tucked onto a second nest. At this point, I’ll admit, I got a little nervous. There’s only so much room — and so many resources — for an endless expansion of duckies here at the ranch.

But one evening while this determined little lady stepped away for dinner, I decided to sneak a peek into her nest.

And there, to my complete relief and absolute delight, I discovered she had been faithfully brooding…

…a pile of baby coconuts.

One of them even looked like a tiny heart.

WHEW.

Not many ducks here receive individual names — we usually stick to flock names unless someone carries a certain unmistakable specialness about them.

This gal absolutely earned one.

Ever since, we’ve been calling her Coco.

I still check her nest whenever she heads off for dinner… just to be safe.

But so far, no coconut trees have started growing yet. 🌴🥚🥥