Leave it on the beach, take a picture, contact the hotline
On a quiet Sunday walk along the south coast of Western Australia, a veterinarian's compassion for a struggling seabird set in motion the confirmation of something Australia's biosecurity community had long anticipated: the arrival of H5 bird flu on the continent. Near the town of Esperance in June 2026, two seabirds tested positive within days of each other, suggesting not an isolated incident but the beginning of a broader incursion. The discovery was less a failure of the system than a vindication of it — years of preparation, training, and geographic foresight converging at the moment they were needed most.
- A veterinarian's instinct to rescue a sick brown skua from a beach inadvertently triggered Australia's first confirmed H5 bird flu detection, a moment the country's biosecurity planners had long feared but quietly prepared for.
- Five days later, a second seabird tested positive at the same clinic, signalling that the virus may already be moving through the region's migratory bird corridors rather than arriving as a single, contained event.
- The very compassion that led a trained vet to act correctly — picking up a suffering animal — is now the behaviour authorities are urgently asking the untrained public to resist, as handling sick birds risks accelerating the virus's spread.
- A government-funded network of regional vets, activated in response, represents years of deliberate preparation; Esperance had long been identified as a likely entry point due to its position along migratory flight paths.
- Authorities expect further cases and are directing the public to photograph and report sick or dead birds via an emergency hotline rather than intervene, placing the next line of defence in the hands of ordinary people.
A Sunday walk near Esperance changed the course of Australian biosecurity history when veterinarian Toni Howlett spotted a brown skua huddled in the seaweed — dehydrated, underweight, and clearly unwell. She loaded the bird into her car and delivered it to a local wildlife carer, who contacted the Department of Primary Industries and Regional Development for testing. Howlett had no reason to suspect avian influenza; botulism is common in marine wildlife along that coastline. What she could not have known was that she had just found Australia's first confirmed H5 bird flu case.
Five days later, her colleague Dr. Alex Hockton tested a second bird — a Giant Northern Petrel presenting with similar illness — before the results from the first had even returned. That bird also tested positive. Two cases, one week, one region, one clinic: the pattern suggested not a fluke but the early signs of a broader incursion along a coastline long identified as a natural corridor for migratory seabirds.
What made the discovery remarkable was how much of it depended on preparation. Hockton and his colleagues had spent two years discussing H5 bird flu before it arrived. The clinic had received government training, and Esperance's geography had been flagged as a probable entry point. Clinic owner Dr. Enoch Bergman reflected that both vets had independently contributed to the diagnosis — a chain of individual decisions that caught the virus before it could spread undetected.
But the episode carried a pointed warning. Howlett, whose instinct to help a suffering animal had proven exactly right in her case, was clear that untrained members of the public should not do the same. Leave the bird, photograph it, and call the animal emergency disease hotline — that is the guidance. The compassion that served her well could, if replicated without training, accelerate the very spread authorities are working to contain.
Officials expect more cases. Agriculture Minister Jackie Jarvis pointed to 2023 funding that built a network of trained regional vets across Western Australia, now being activated in response. The system, it seems, worked — but whether it continues to will depend on sustained vigilance from professionals and restraint from the public.
A veterinarian's Sunday walk along a Western Australian beach turned into the discovery that would confirm what public health officials had been bracing for: the arrival of H5 bird flu in Australia. Toni Howlett was strolling near Esperance with a friend when she spotted a brown skua—a subantarctic seabird—huddled in the seaweed, clearly unwell. The bird was dehydrated and underweight. Without hesitation, Howlett loaded it into her car and drove it to Lori-Ann Shibish, a local wildlife carer, who immediately contacted the Department of Primary Industries and Regional Development for testing. What Howlett did not know at the time was that she had just found the index case of Australia's first documented H5 variant infection in birds.
When Howlett first encountered the brown skua, avian influenza never crossed her mind. The south coast of Western Australia sees regular cases of botulism in marine wildlife, and that seemed the more likely culprit. She had no reason to suspect she was handling one of the most dangerous pathogens in the animal kingdom. "I established that he was a little bit dehydrated and pretty skinny and thought it would be good to get him into care," she recalled. The bird's condition warranted intervention, and her instinct to help set in motion a chain of events that would reshape how Australia's veterinary and biosecurity communities understood their readiness for an emerging threat.
Five days after Howlett's discovery, her colleague at Swans Vets, Dr. Alex Hockton, tested a second bird—a Giant Northern Petrel—that had presented with similar signs of illness. That bird also tested positive for avian influenza. The timing was striking: two separate cases within a week, both in the same region, both identified by the same veterinary clinic. Hockton noted that the decision to test the second bird was made based on the nature of its illness alone; at that point, results from the first bird had not yet returned, and the team did not yet know that the brown skua had died from avian influenza. The second positive result suggested this was not an isolated incident but potentially the beginning of a broader incursion.
What made this discovery significant was not just that it happened, but that it happened because of years of preparation. Hockton and his colleagues had been discussing H5 bird flu for two years before the first case appeared. The clinic had received training from the Department of Primary Industries and Regional Development. Esperance's location on the south coast—a natural corridor for migratory birds—had long been flagged as a potential entry point for the virus. "We've always thought Esperance might be a location that could crop up with a first case or one of, and that's been the case in this instance," Hockton said. The preparedness was not paranoia; it was prudence.
Dr. Enoch Bergman, the owner of Swans Vets, emphasized that both Howlett and Hockton had independently contributed to the diagnosis. "Toni and Alex, both of them independently of one another, essentially led to the diagnosis of this index case of avian influenza, which is just phenomenal," he said. The discovery underscored a principle that would become central to the response: early recognition depends on networks. Howlett's willingness to help a sick bird, Shibish's adherence to protocol in reporting it, and Hockton's decision to test the second case all formed a chain that caught the virus before it could spread undetected.
But the discovery also carried an urgent message for the public. Howlett was explicit about what ordinary people should do if they encounter a sick or dead bird: leave it alone. "Just leave it on the beach, take a picture, if you're in mobile service you can contact the animal emergency disease hotline," she advised. The risk of transmission to humans remains low, but the risk of spreading the virus among bird populations is real. Hockton echoed this guidance, urging anyone who finds a sick or dead bird to report it through official channels rather than attempt to help. The very instinct that led Howlett to rescue the brown skua—compassion for a suffering animal—could, if replicated by untrained members of the public, accelerate the virus's spread.
Authorities made clear that more cases are likely. Hockton said it was reasonable to expect further detections, and if additional birds arrived at the clinic, every precaution and surveillance test would be performed. Agriculture Minister Jackie Jarvis highlighted the funding provided in 2023 that had trained a network of private veterinarians across regional Western Australia to respond to animal biosecurity threats. "We are activating these networks as part of the efforts," she said. The discovery of H5 in Esperance was not a failure of preparedness; it was a test of it, and so far, the system had worked. What happens next will depend on whether the public heeds the advice to report rather than rescue, and whether the networks of vets, wildlife carers, and government agencies can sustain the vigilance that caught the first case.
Notable Quotes
I established that he was a little bit dehydrated and pretty skinny and thought it would be good to get him into care— Dr. Toni Howlett, on her initial assessment of the brown skua
We've always thought Esperance might be a location that could crop up with a first case or one of, and that's been the case in this instance— Dr. Alex Hockton, on why the south coast was a likely entry point
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Howlett's casual beach walk matter so much? Couldn't someone else have found the bird eventually?
Maybe, but timing is everything with a virus. If that bird had died unnoticed in the seaweed, no one would have known H5 was here. The second case came five days later. Without the first discovery, the second might have looked like an isolated incident instead of a pattern.
She didn't even know what she was looking at. How is that preparedness?
That's exactly the point. Preparedness isn't just about experts knowing what to look for. It's about having a system where a vet with good instincts can hand off a sick bird to a wildlife carer who knows the protocol, who contacts the right agency. Howlett didn't need to diagnose H5. She just needed to care enough to help.
But now the advice is to leave sick birds alone. Isn't that the opposite message?
It's a different message for different people. Howlett is a trained veterinarian. The public is not. If hundreds of people start picking up sick birds to help them, you've got hundreds of potential transmission events. The system works when experts handle the birds and the public reports them.
Why Esperance specifically? Was it just luck?
Not luck. The south coast is a migration corridor. Birds from across the Pacific stop there. Vets had been saying for two years that if H5 arrived in Australia, Esperance was a likely entry point. They were right. That's not luck—that's understanding geography and ecology.
What happens if the next sick bird is found by someone who doesn't call the hotline?
Then you lose time. The virus spreads while no one's watching. That's why the message now is so clear: report it, don't touch it. The first case was caught because of one vet's instinct and good judgment. The system can't rely on that happening every time.