Zealandia 2.0

Another breakfast at the hotel where the council reps were discussing their upcoming workshops and lectures. Yesterday I had asked Ellison from a council near Rotarua why the prevailing architecture in Wellington seemed to be small houses with peaked roofs, like a child’s drawing. As a good elected official, she said she would look into that. This morning, she spotted me eating my raw oatmeal with yogurt and banana and reported the original colonists had built houses like they knew in England. Not for wind resistance or to survive earthquakes, just the same old, same old. Humans are so predictable.

Our night tour ticket allowed us to return the next day to Zealandia. I wanted to get there at opening time, so I scheduled an Uber for 8:45. 

Zealandia, now 14 years old, is 500+ acres, both sides of a valley north of downtown Wellington. It is completely surrounded by 2.2 meter high fence, topped by a wide cap, to prevent predators like stoats and cats from entering the area. Inside, the native birds, reptiles, and insects are free to live. The 500-year plan is to return the valley to as it would have been before any humans, including the Māori, would have been there. Native flora is being added and invasives are being removed. Some trees like pines that the English brought will be kept for many more years until the native trees are tall enough to provide the habitat. Understory shrubbery is being replanted.

Birds that disappeared from Wellington have bred successfully inside well enough to spread to the surrounding area.

They also set out bait boxes. Some are instant-death traps to capture any predators that have managed to sneak in. Other boxes are open-need tunnels, a walkthrough that has ink to capture foot prints to see what is in the area. I’m not clear how only the baddies get into the traps.

We started down the path, stopping to watch NZ scaups on the lake behind the first dam. Obviously people have ignored the “don’t not feed the birds” sign, because 8 immediately stopped their diving and swam over to look at me. By the time I’d gotten back on the path, my fingers were icy. That dang wind is brutal.

Any time we were in the open, the wind chilled us. We checked the bug boxes and the pipes where we’d see spiders, slugs and wētā last night. Nothing but one 1/2” leaf veined slug.

I knew we wouldn't see kiwi, nocturnal little buggers, but hoped to see some of the other native birds today. I had made contact with a local birder who had said he could meet us at Zealandia, but then he realized he was already committed to volunteer at a conference. We were on our own. The temperature wasn’t bad, 53°, but the wind was blowing, and there was deep overcast. Not exactly great birding weather. Nevertheless, we started off. 

This is the first land-based predator-free sanctuary in the world and is so successful, it is being copied. Previously, the only predator-free sanctuaries have been off-shore islands. A paved accessible trail runes along the river from the lower earthen dam to the upper one. Eventually this river will have fish ladders all the way from the ocean so native fish can once again breed upstream. Spreading off from the central path are hiking trails throughout the sanctuary, some easy, some difficult. 

Not many birds. A couple of shell gulls along the river, 7 pied shags nesting in trees on the other side. No song or movement in the overhead. On the other hand, the forest was a fern lover’s paradise. I counted 4 kinds of ferns on just one tree. The ground was covered with many more species. Silver tree ferns with fiddleheads bigger than Grant’s 2 fists grew overhead. If not a bird day, a great plant day. 

The pride of the sanctuary is their takahē. Only 500 are left in the world. Thought to be extinct, they were rediscovered in 1948, when prob 100 were living in Fiordland on the South Island. A breeding and conservation program has slowly brought them back. 

A pair at were brought from the South Island in 2017 since the bird is extinct in the North Island. Nio and Orbell lived for many years, surprising their caretakers by having several chicks after they were thought too old to breed. Sadly, the female, Nio, died of old age last April. Orbell seems fine, although the staff worries that he may be preening too much now. Grieving? They evidently mate for life, so it’s unlikely another female will be introduced to him.

There is another pair in an inaccessible area. Takahēs are extremely territorial, so they have to be far away from Orbell. That male is infertile, so no surprise babies from them.
 

Like all chickens, he approached us for a handout. He gave every visitor an opportunity, but we had nothing to offer. When he saw his caretaker, he ran to him, knowing he was about to be fed. 

Takahē are in the same genus, Porphyrio, as our Florida gallinule and the grey swamp hens from Eurasia. I should learn more about when the genus arose.

We walked on, hearing kaka parrots and bellbirds. My Merlin app struggled, saying only about 1/3 of NZ bird species have calls recorded. It also claimed it heard a grey gerygone in the tree tops. I saw nothing.

A passing walker told us to scuff in the leaf litter and robins would come.

The kaka feeding station was empty when we passed, but when we returned, 4 parrots were feeding, opening the feeding box by landing on a spring lever. The Eurasian blackbirds were trying to get their heads in the boxes at the same time because they are too light to open the door by themselves. 

After watching for a while, we headed back to the entrance, chilled to the bone by the wind. I couldn’t feel my fingers. Even eating in Cafe Rātā wasn’t particularly warm. Time for inside activities.

We took the bus to the Te Papa and spent an hour looking at the natural side of the museum. Grant read much of the exhibit descriptions, while I took the opportunity to sit. I did learn that the extinction of the moa by the Māori and the animals they brought with them also caused the giant Haast’s eagle, with a 10’ wingspan, to go extinct. Conjecture is that its huge and powerful talons had evolved to pierce the pelvis of the giant moas, and it couldn’t adapt to smaller prey.

In the geology area, I played with the exhibit that showed how New Zealand was part of Gondwana and is slowly breaking away. Eventually the North Island and the top of the South will pull apart from the rest. The land isn’t just volcanic like some of the Pacific islands. We took a turn in the earthquake house, feeling it sway and seeing virtual household items crash to the floor. Te Papa is really well done. 

Too tired to look at more Māori treasures or the special exhibit about NZ men fighting at Gallipoli in WW1, we headed to the hotel. Dinner of lamb samosas heated in the microwave and a green salad. Our beds called and were answered. 

Steps: 10,188