🦜The Giant Parrot of Ancient New Zealand

Long before humans ever stepped foot on the islands of New Zealand, a peculiar world of towering birds, reptiles, and primitive mammals thrived beneath the canopy of vast subtropical forests. Among them was a creature that, until recently, no one ever imagined existed: a parrot the size of a child. This was Heracles inexpectatus—an ancient giant that stood nearly a meter tall, weighed around 7 kilograms (15 pounds), and belonged to one of the most intelligent bird families on Earth.

Unearthed from the fossil-rich region of St Bathans in Central Otago, New Zealand, the remains of Heracles were first discovered in 2008 but sat unidentified in storage for years. Just two partial leg bones told a story more astonishing than scientists had dared to hope. These bones were once assumed to belong to a large eagle or vulture—but further inspection revealed characteristics unmistakably avian, yet not of a bird of prey. They were from a parrot, but no ordinary one. This was a bird that broke every known record in parrot evolution.

Towering over its cousins—the flightless, moss-colored kākāpō and the clever, mountain-dwelling kea—Heracles was a behemoth. Based on the robust leg bones and the scale of the surrounding avian fossils, this bird would have been nearly double the size of any modern parrot, dwarfing even the world’s largest macaws. Its thick limbs suggest that it was entirely ground-dwelling, a creature that strutted rather than soared.

Its strong legs weren’t just for show. They indicate a powerful and mobile animal, capable of navigating the forest floor with agility and intent. While most parrots are known for their vibrant plumage and aerial dexterity, Heracles belonged to a different class altogether—slow-moving, possibly territorial, and adapted to a life without flight. It’s likely this bird didn’t need to escape danger from above, because there were few—if any—natural predators in the ancient New Zealand ecosystem.

In a land ruled by birds, evolution took a strange and wonderful course. New Zealand, separated from other land masses for over 80 million years, became a sanctuary where birds could fill every ecological niche. Here, pigeons became fruit-eating giants, owls hunted by day, and in place of mammals, massive flightless birds like the moa roamed the dense jungles. In this bird-dominated environment, Heracles may have been king.

What exactly did this titanic parrot eat? Given the size of its presumed beak—likely massive and curved like its modern relatives—it would have been more than capable of cracking open the toughest of nuts and seeds. But there’s reason to believe it may have had a broader, more opportunistic diet. Like the modern kea, known to scavenge carcasses or prey on weak sheep, Heracles may have turned to protein-rich sources when available. It’s not impossible that it ate insects, lizards, or even the eggs and chicks of smaller birds.

Its beak, likely proportionate to its size, could have easily broken through the shells of large fruits or even bones. In a forest teeming with ancient trees like laurels, palms, and conifers, it would have had access to a rich and diverse buffet of plant-based foods. Yet, the competitive nature of the forest may have nudged it toward a flexible diet. After all, when you're the biggest bird on the block, you have options.

The ecosystem in which Heracles thrived was unlike anything seen today. The Miocene period, roughly 19 million years ago, was a time of warmth and rainforest abundance. The area where its fossils were found was once a tropical wetland near a lake, bustling with birds, frogs, bats, turtles, crocodiles, and primitive mammals. It was one of the few places in New Zealand’s prehistory where land mammals existed—though they were small, shrew-like, and completely overshadowed by the grandeur of the avian world.

Among the five other known species of parrot found in the same fossil beds, Heracles was undoubtedly the largest and most enigmatic. While its smaller cousins may have nested in trees and relied on flight, this parrot ruled the undergrowth. It likely used its size not just to gather food, but to intimidate competitors and defend nesting areas. If it was territorial, its presence would have influenced the behavior and evolution of other species in the region.

As with many giants in the natural world, the reign of Heracles was not eternal. Over time, climate change began to alter the landscape. The warm, humid forests began to shrink, replaced by cooler, drier environments. As the vegetation changed, so too did the food sources that large, specialized birds like Heracles relied on. Unable to adapt quickly to a shifting environment and new competition, the great parrot disappeared from the fossil record. What remained were fragments—bones fossilized in silt and stone, waiting to be rediscovered.

The name Heracles inexpectatus reflects both the bird’s incredible size and the surprise of its discovery. Heracles, the legendary Greek hero of unmatched strength, was an apt metaphor for a parrot of such scale and presence. And “inexpectatus”—unexpected—captured the astonishment that swept through the scientific world when the true identity of the bones was finally revealed.

But what makes Heracles so fascinating isn't just its bulk. It’s what it tells us about how life evolves in isolation. On islands free of large mammalian predators, birds can ascend to ecological dominance. They grow larger, more diverse, and take on roles filled elsewhere by lions, wolves, or monkeys. Heracles shows us what’s possible when evolution is unrestrained by the usual rules.

The story of this giant parrot reminds us of how much the Earth still hides. For years, its bones sat unnoticed, misclassified in museum drawers. How many other giants, oddities, and evolutionary mysteries lie buried in remote fossil beds around the world, misidentified or undiscovered? What secrets still sleep in the stone?

Heracles inexpectatus invites us to imagine a world where birds ruled, where the forests echoed not with the cries of monkeys but with the deep, thunderous squawks of parrot titans crashing through the foliage. It was a world of lush growth, strange creatures, and evolutionary wonder—one that vanished millions of years ago but left behind just enough to ignite our curiosity.

In the silence of a museum drawer, a giant once slept. Now awake, it stands as a symbol of what was—and what still might be uncovered.