Away, Far Far Away

Across the broad vast Pacific through the night, across the equator and the dateline time warp, we flew. As the light of day appeared, we were in Auckland, New Zealand, the City of Sails. We took the shuttle to our hotel, The Quadrant, which is across the street from the University and on the other side is Albert Park. Now we can see the water from our window on the 12th floor, between the tall buildings. But before we could check in, we found the library, Starbucks, the Britomart train station, and lamb pizza for lunch all in the pouring rain. By afternoon we were happy to have a shower and a nap. In the evening, walking to dinner, a beautiful bride with her father and bridesmaids in mauve were being photographed. Then we passed a group of enthusiastic youngsters in Red Cross t-shirts asking for Christchurch assistance donations. At the Caravanserei restaurant, we ate delicious Turkish kefte meatballs and pastitio. Then came finally the welcome long night's rest.

Rangitoto Journal Entry by Sarah Mathew 1840

Rangitoto Bush
March 7, 2011

"Track or path there was none after we left the beach. We were more than three hours in the ascent, every step over huge masses of brittle substance, sometimes so thin as to break under our feet, every interstice filled with fern or shrubs and parasitic plants, which were in some places a help their tough streamers giving us something to hold on by when scoria and broken rocks rolled from our feet. At last we reached the summit, all quite exhausted and sat down to rest and breathe. We found the top of the mountain was a steep hollow and surrounded by irregular peaks, apparently formed by the action of the volcanoe throwing up heaps of ashes or scoria in several directions, probably at different periods. The wind blew so strong at the summit, we could scarcely stand, and after resting awhile we began our descent.

"The sharp rocks and scoria had worn my boots to pieces, and my dress of grey merino was torn to shreds, struggling through the thorny brushwood and by the sharp edges of the rocks.

"Thankful was I to see the shore and boat at last."

North Island Overlander Train

 

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

The  Overlander train from Auckland to Wellington leaves from the underground Britomart station at 7:25 am and arrives at Wellington at 7:25 pm, exactly 12 hours later. Mostly for tourists, this North Island long-distance slow train journey passes through suburban areas, pastoral countryside, and the scenic Central Plateau with its remote rivers and volcanic peaks. It stops briefly at the national park station for views of Mount Ruapehu, the highest point on the North Island.

Our assigned seats are in the last carriage and we can move freely to the very back of the train where there are windows all around and comfortable seating. It's an opportunity to get to know fellow travelers and watch the scenery and train tracks recede from us. The weather is fine but it's difficult to take photos through the windows. We can go forward and stand on the small platform between cars in the fresh air and listen to the clacking of the wheels on the tracks and try to snap photos.

The rail line is an engineering marvel, incorporating 25 major bridges and 14 tunnels. The Raurimu Spiral is 11 km of track with a complete circle and three long sharp curves to ascend the steep terrain and advance 5.5 km. It's possible for us to look forward at the train engine as it makes these turns and passes over the tall viaducts, one is 79m tall. Begun in 1884, the track was completed in Novermber of 1908.

I note a few sights along the way. As we leave Auckland, there are small brick or frame homes with clothes flapping on clotheslines. Passing into the green rolling countryside, there are nursery trees, greenhouses, then sheep, cattle, and corn fields. One sign advertises wool scourers. The conductor tells about the Whangamarino wetlands preserve for waterfowl over the loudspeaker. The mining town of Huntly has a thermal (coal?) power station. We follow the route of the colonial army in 1863 as it pushed back Maori warriors and took the land during the Waikato War. Taupiri is the sacred burial mountain of the Maori Kings, the Maori Queen and other Maori. Even now, Maori honk car horns as they pass by to say hello to their ancestors. Then there is Waikato River, the longest in New Zealand. As we slide into Wellington, some business signs--the local Countdown supermarket. The old train station is right downtown and our Ibis hotel is four blocks away, an easy and welcome walk after a long ride.

One Day in Wellington

 

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

If the South Island is the canoe, the North Island is a very large fish and Wellington's harbor is the fish's mouth. This vibrant compact city is the NZ capital and its people are purposeful and energetic. The city is confined by the steep hills which surround the downtown area. With only one day here, after a long day on the train from Auckland, we intend to walk as far as we can.

Early in the morning after an unremarkable breakfast at the hotel, we head to the Cable Car only a block away. The Car chugs up the steep incline, carrying us tourists to the Botanic Garden and families to upper neighborhoods. Once atop the hill on the high point of the city, we enjoy the panorama and begin our walk northward toward Bowen Street along pathways through native trees, flowers, and shrubs. We pause often along the way, taking photos, watching butterflies, birds, and children. Finally we reach Bowen street with its historic clapboard houses. Then it's on through an old cemetary with names from the British Isles, over a viaduct, and into the government district with large old wooden buildings and the iconic "Beehive," the offices of government officials. We complete the circle and stop by the hotel to drop off our jackets.

Heading south on Featherston Street, we find the Civic Square where metal Nikau palms surround and support the structure of the Central Library. There also is an art gallery and a theater for film festivals. Eventually we find Cuba Street, with its quirky shops and eccentric young people. At Ernesto's delightful light lunch fare is reasonably priced. I'm tempted to stick around just to watch people and activities in this district. But we continue our circuitous walk along waterfront parks and past store windows. Soon it is dark so it's back to the hotel. Later in the evening we have shepherd's pie at a crowded local pub where we listen to live local Celtic music.

One day in Wellington is not enough. The famous Te Papa museum is a reason to return. Tomorrow we leave the North Island "fish," cross Cook Strait and enter the South Island "canoe."

Across Cook Strait, Picton and Around

 

Thursday, March 10, 2011

The Bluebridge ferry leaves early from its berth near the Wellington train station. Luckily it's a beautiful day and the seas are calm, belying the Strait's reputation for high winds and rough seas. For most of the several hours it takes to cross to Picton, we stand on the bow of the ship and enjoy the sun and stunning views. There is a large sailboat that follows us out of Wellington and when we reach Marlborough Sound passages, dolphins ride our bow wake. There is aquaculture and forest clearcutting along the shores.

When we reach Picton the car rental agency is just across the parking lot. We hop in our little car and, remembering to drive on the left side, we head south then west to the Equestrian Lodge at Motueka. There are no horses and no lodge, but housekeeping units around gardens and a swimming pool. It's near summer's end so the pool is unkempt. There are many small butterflies struggling on its surface. I sweep my hand in and bring a few out to dry in the sun and fly away. Behind the units are clotheslines and a trampoline. This is our home for the next three nights. We find the grocery store, eat dinner, and spend the evening planning--so much to see. Later when no one is looking I go out back and jump on the trampoline, higher and higher.

Marble Mountain, Pupu Springs

 

Friday, March 12, 2011

Getting the sense of the land and sea, this is a drive around day. Taking route 60 from Motueka over Takaka Hill to Golden Bay, there is much to see. Looking back from the top of the hill, there are orchards of apples ready for harvest and fields of hops on trellises. 

Beyond, we walk a path amid the fantastic shapes of marble. Onward to Te Waikoropupu Springs, the largest freshwater springs in NZ and the purest. We walk around the "Pupu Springs" Reserve. It's quite a lovely introduction to beautiful natural systems. The springs are incredibly clear and blue, the forests have trees we've never seen before, there is a beautiful white egret in a tree above and a blackbird singing by the parking lot. We eat the lunch we packed at a picnic table on Golden Bay among many gulls. Heading back, we find Labyrinth Rocks Park and the Grove. These are small parks with amazing limestone canyons and native "bush." 

At the end of our drive we stop off at Kaiteriteri to inquire about a boat taxi to Torrent Bay in Abel Tasman National Park. That's our plan for tomorrow--to take the boat out and walk back along the coast. And so back to the Equestrian Lodge and supper.

No Abel Tasman, But Nelson and Ruby Bay

 

Saturday, March 12, 2011

A day not soon forgotten. It's the day of the massive Japanese disaster. The Christchurch newspaper big headline reads, "Quake, tsunami hit Japan." We're worried about family in Japan. Folks are advised to stay away from NZ beaches in case there's a tsunami here. We alter our plans for the day. Sadly, we won't see much of Abel Tasman National Park.

We head uphill to Upper Moutere on a back road through the countryside, stopping at the Newdorf winery which is not yet open. The Moutere Inn, NZ's oldest pub isn't open either. There is an old German settlement (1843) called Sarau. At first pioneer life here was difficult, subsistence farming then the adoption of cash crops "pip-fruit," hops, and tobacco. We visit the original St. Paul's Lutheran Church and cemetary.

Luckily, on Saturday there is a farmer's and craft open market in Nelson. There are lots of fresh apples and other late summer produce. It's tempting to buy souvenirs but I just don't know enough yet, especially about greenstone. Young families take advantage of the produce deals though. We head uphill to Christ Church Cathedral on the hill. There's an organ recital underway. We peek in for a moment to see the church interior and listen briefly. In a nearby neighborhood there are rental holiday homes that look very inviting.

On the way back to Motueka, we detour to the drive along Ruby Bay stopping to have a late afternoon snack of green-lipped mussels. Mmm, yummy. In the evening news, we hear that the tsunami here was only a few inches. Still thinking about the awful disaster.

Pancake Rocks

 

Glaciers

 

Aspiring Mt Aspiring, Wanaka

 

Milford Sound, Te Anau

 

Looking for Bluff Oysters, Invercargill

 

Otago Peninsula and Dunedin

 

Royal Albatross

Sunday, March 20 and Monday Morning, March 21, 2011

It's a long drive under overcast skies from Invercargill to Dunedin. Dunedin, Edinburgh of the south, was for Scottish settlers a major sheltered port deriving wealth from a gold rush starting in 1861, and then farming and shipping of fiber and frozen meat. All that wool and the extra animals must get to market. Miners came mostly from Australia, and the wealth contributed to the Gothic Revival architecture done in bluestone and limestone, and the establishment in 1871 of the University of Otago with about 25,000 students today.

Otago Harbour is bordered on the east by the Otago Peninsula and then the Pacific. Otago Peninsula is our destination for the afternoon as the skies clear and we find ourselves on a very narrow road heading north toward sanctuaries for rare wildlife. At the north end at Taiaroa Head are Royal Albatrosses wheeling overhead. There is a nesting colony with baby birds we could see for a hefty fee, but with limited time, we opt not to do that. There are also fur seals on the east side of the point and, we understand, penguin colonies. We'd need to stay until evening to see them come ashore. The albatrosses are massive birds and we spend quite a lot of time just tipping our heads back watching them soaring aloft, coming in from fishing at sea. Truly amazing. A very patient Stewart Island shag sits unperturbed at the end of the parking lot. About halfway down the peninsula and out an unpaved track is the NZ Marine Studies Centre and Aquarium where we see blue cod (local fish and chips fish) and other native fishes. I buy a beautiful abalone shell as a remembrance.

In Dunedin finally there is our B-and-B. An older couple is spending a week there, escaping their fear of earthquakes at their home in Christchurch. The proprietor shows us the shared kitchen where we can cook, if we wish. Our room overlooks an old neighborhood of stately homes, most now converted to apartments or lodging. The recommended evening dinner spot was Speight's Brewery (1876), a downhill walk. Not too difficult to sell Henry on that idea. After eating we walk around downtown Dunedin. There is the Octagon "square," the statue of Robert Burns, and the spires of St. Paul's Cathedral (Anglican).

The next morning it's raining again. The owner of the B&B suggests a drive out along the west side of Otago Harbour to Port Chalmers, and to the point opposite the albatross colony. There is a long breakwater there. We get out and walk way to the end. People are fishing, divers are snorkeling for abalone, there are fur seals, gulls, shags, and offshore a small bird. I'm calling it my blue penguin, even though visibililty wasn't good in the rain, but it was about the right size. Soaked and driving back toward Dunedin, we search for lunch in Port Chalmers, but it's all closed up. So, back to downtown to an Irish pub to eat and decide what's next. We run into our friends from Christchurch at the pub.

Taieri Gorge Railway, "One of the World's Great Train Trips"

Monday Afternoon, March 21, 2011

After such a rainy morning, we look for a dry warm afternoon and buy the last two tickets for the run on the Limited. We board a restored wooden 1920s car for the round-trip from the historic Dunedin train station, with its foyer bright with Royal Doulton tiles and mosaic floor, to a sunny rural place near the highest point of the railway. There the conductors disengage the locomotive and move it to the other end of the train for the journey back. We have come from a soggy day on the Pacific coast up the mountains through an old gold prospecting area in the sunshine.

The rail line was built from 1879 to 1921 through very rugged mountains, a major engineering feat with about a dozen high trestles. At times we can look forward or backward and see one end of the curving train elevated on these viaducts made of stone and wrought iron. Our four-hour trip is 58km up and 58km back, with intermittent breaks when we are able to disembark and look out over the wilderness and canyons where gold miners searched for fortune. At the top some passengers disembark with their bicycles to continue on the Otago Central Rail Trail toward Wanaka and Queenstown. If we'd had more time and been more organized, we'd have considered doing that.

We're glad to stand up and walk back to our bed and breakfast after so much sitting in the old wooden rail car as it swayed and jolted through the Gorge, even if we must walk in the rain.

Moeraki Boulders

 

Only a little way north of Dunedin is a beach where large spheres, the Moeraki Boulders, lie. Their perfect shapes and sizes are quite unusual. The boulders fall out of the mudstone cliffs behind the beach. There are small spheres, too, but most of these are picked up and taken by visitors. On the beach the stones decay and reveal their interiors of lime crystals.

Of course the Maori have a story to explain the boulders. They believed that the boulders were food baskets or water gourds from a wrecked canoe. The nearby reef was supposed to be a canoe hull wreck and a large rock was the canoe's navigator. Connections from the past into the present, from people relating to the land. In fact, all of the South Island is envisioned by Maori to be a canoe, with Stewart Island just off the southernmost point its anchor. The North Island is a very large fish caught by the fishermen in the canoe (South Island).

Oamaru

 

On the way to Christchurch is a small town, Oamaru. It is known for its outlandish neoclassical whitestone public architecture, built between 1871 and 1883 from the wealth accumulated from quarrying, timber and farming. We stop here for lunch at a small bistro, even though we are far from our day's destination. After lunch we walk for a time along the broad Thames street. We meet a woman playing the accordian outside a storefront. She stops playing, knows we are from the US, and asks us, "I think Obama is trying to do the right thing, don't you?" So many people look to America for world leadership and are interested in our politics. She goes back to playing old songs and we put some coins in the accordian case.

Oamaru is also known for its penguin colonies. Both the small blue penguins and the yellow-eyed penguins come ashore in the evening. The blues march past a grandstand specially built for penguin viewing. We're here too early in the day to see these charming birds. Oamaru was also the home of Janet Frame, one of New Zealand's greatest writers. I'll try to find one of her books.

We drive north and by-pass Christchurch, so recently devastated by that earthquake. We are able to drive through without seeing much evidence of damage, passing on the west near the airport. On to Kaikoura.

Kaikoura or Koha O Marokura, Gift of Marokura

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

According to legend, Marokura, a young god, created this bountiful region. Two peninsulas and deep sea canyons mix the cold southern waters with the warm northern seas. The result is upwelling and an abundance of sea life. Frequent sightings of sperm and humpback whales, and orcas bring visitors to Maori boat trips. The seas are often rough, as they are today.

The Kaikoura Peninsula Walkway is our choice, an 11km out-and-back. We park by the fur seal colony and follow the path uphill along the cliffs. Then there are steps down to the beach, where we see terns, red- and black-billed gulls, black oystercatchers, shags, and rabbits. The scenery is breathtakingly expansive and dramatically wild. Off-shore where the water drops to its kilometer deep canyon the water changes from aqua to deep blue. There is a cool breeze, but we move along enjoying the air in our faces.

In an abalone shell factory shells are polished to iridescent loveliness. The Fyffe House whaler cottage rests on its whalebone foundation since 1842. The best food is from a trailer on the beach where we order abalone.

Hello from Napier

Friday, March 25

We left Wellington early after picking up another rental car. Traveling north, our destination for the day, Napier. Reading in the Rough Guide and the Lonely Planet, we hope to find a place to stop and explore before we arrive. That spot turns out to be the Pukaha Mount Bruce National Wildlife Centre and we're just in time for the naturalist walk. The first stop is feeding of the long-fin eels, in a frenzy as pellets hit the water. A single large trout hangs about. Then we walk by spacious pens where native endangered birds are raised until they're big enough to defend themselves from imported predators and then released into the surrounding forests. There is a kiwi house where one might observe kiwis. Active only at night, the kiwis are difficult to find and watch. The naturalist disturbs a resting young kiwi to weigh and evaluate its progress. She brings it close to the fence for us to see up close and photograph.

Napier is a phoenix town. On February 3, 1931, for two to three minutes, Napier was rocked by an 7.9 magnitude earthquake. Much of the downtown was destroyed by the earth's wrenching upward 6 meters and the ensuing fires. Land appeared, where there was none before, enough for an airport. The town was rebuilt immediately in the style of the time—Art Deco. We stayed in the County Hotel (a former government building), one of the few buildings to survive the earthquake, beautifully redecorated, with few patrons. We had our first lamb shanks and kumara mash (sweet potato) in the neighborhood Irish pub across the street, complete with a bar imported from Belfast and lively Celtic music. The next morning we walked the broad streets to find breakfast at a sidewalk table and then returned to the hotel along Marine Parade shoreline park. Heading north to volcano country. Bye, bye to Napier.

Playing in a Caldera

 

In the Frying Pan (Caldera)

Sunday, March 27

Ever wonder about the sense of people who live with the knowledge that their world may change in an instant from volcanoes and earthquakes, where the evidence of cataclysm is all around and yet they stay and build as if there is nothing to worry about? That is Rotorua and its environs, where the air smells of sulfur and the lake water steams from vents beneath the surface. The Te Arawa people adapted, appreciating the warm earth in winter, cooking their food in hot water, bathing in the warm water. Birds didn't need sit on their nests to keep eggs warm. When Europeans discovered this area with geysers, boiling mud, and warm mineral pools, tourism and the health spa business took off. However one night in 1886, Mount Tarawera erupted, destroying the beautiful Pink and White Terraces and terrifying Maori and Europeans alike. The Original Bath House now the Rotorua Museum is next to the Government Gardens, where croquet is still played.

Yesterday, we hiked in a downpour in the Craters of the Moon (on the road from Lake Taupo to Rotorua). This active volcanic site resulted from the construction of the Waitakei geothermal power station which changed the underground water dynamics. Warnings were frequent: stay on the paths, don't step into a fumarole. Steam was everywhere, more so because of the rain.

We strolled along the lake in Rotorua this Sunday afternoon in the sunshine, observing residents and tourists alike, there in the caldera. We did not see all the spectacular geothermal sites. Perhaps some day we will bravely return, trusting we will not be caught by some natural disaster.

Into the Matai Bush at Dusk

 

Sunday Evening, March 27

When we travel, we have had an unwritten rule, that we try to have our own experiences not those provided by tours. In Rotorua, there are Maori family reserves doing big business and almost all tourists there spend an evening eating from earth ovens and seeing traditional performances. It is said to be a good way to learn about that indigenous culture. On our second and last night in Rotorua, on the spur of the moment, we relented and spent the evening in the company of a couple hundred others with the Maori Matai family.

The hangi dinner was tasty--kumara (sweet potato), roast lamb, and other treats. The table company was multinational. They were all interested in American politics, so Henry obliged.

At dusk groups were led down the path to clear beautiful Rainbow Springs, water bubbling up at the bottom of the stream. Further on a fantail bird is close by in the brush. Then, young men power up the stream in a traditional waka (wooden canoe) in torchlight as night falls. Walking back up the path in the dark we see points of light, glowworms! From there to the traditional performance of the welcoming ceremony, a protocol not understood by early European explorers. Maori warriors challenge visitors to test their intent with threatening swinging clubs, staring eyes, and protruding tongues. Women then make the welcoming call and sing. Peace is made and eventually our visitor representative experiences the ritual touching of foreheads and noses (hongi), binding friendship. In addition, traditional dances were performed. The men participate in a very physically demanding war dance. The women dance and rhythmically swing white poi balls (made of NZ flax leaves). The leader explains more about the earlier Maori stone-age way of life. We all leave a little wiser.

Bay of Islands

Wednesday, March 30

The Bay of Islands lies north. Its calm aqua waters are a famous harbor. Paihia and Russell are its communities. The bay is where New Zealand, the colony, began. Captain Cook found it welcoming, just as the Maori did in when they arrived. The bay's history of rowdy sailors, whalers, and other ne'er-do-wells made Russell the "hellhole of the Pacific." When Darwin visited in 1835, he noted as much. In former times, when New Zealand was Aotearoa, a Maori fortified village there was called Kororareka or Sweet Penguin.

We take a ferry ride from Paihia, where we are staying, to Russell and spend the afternoon visiting small museums and walking along the beach. I find a fragment of an old dish, white with brown painted decoration. One museum had so many such artifacts, it had no interest in mine. These days visitors to Paihia and Russell learn history. Close to Paihia is where the Waitangi Treaty was signed in 1840. That treaty is still the basis for Maori-Pakeha (European settler) relations.

We did not swim with the dolphins, fish for marlin, jetboat, parasail, kayak, or dive the wreck of the Rainbow Warrior.

In the Canopy of Kauris

 

Tuesday, March 29

We spend the morning with our friends aboard their 38-foot sailboat, on the hard at Dockland 5 in Whangerei. Then, lingering over lunch in town by the Hateo River marina, we give Linda photo cards of Shrek the sheep and Brad gets a small gadget. The sailors head back to much more work preparing for their departure to Tonga, and we take our leave. Our best wishes go with them. When and where will we see them again?

Just north, within walking distance, is the AH Reed Memorial Kauri Park. We slip quietly out of the afternoon sun and heat and onto the moist green path. We hear overhead the greeting of the honey-eating tui, whose song penetrates the forest. Also called the parson bird, its white bib is in stark contrast to its black body. Part of the path lies along a stream, but the best part is an elevated wooden walkway about halfway up the enormous kauri trees, where we peer down through the lacy silver tree ferns to the shady water below. It's an entirely new perspective. Instead of craning our necks to look up so far, we see the way some birds experience this remnant of an ancient forest. Coolness envelops us. We're tempted to linger there by the waterfall at the end of the trail. It's our only chance to see the kauri, these old podocarp trees from an age beyond our imagining when continents split apart and isolated these islands.

To Land's End in the Car from Hell, March 31

Cape Reinga


Time is short. Linda and Brad say we must see Cape Reinga. There's something special about that place. Our rental 2002 white Nissan Bluebird is acting a strangely. The transmission seems to stick, often in a high gear. In a land where everything is either uphill or downhill, downhill is fine but going uphill gets slower and slower. Trusting that the car will last two more days on the road, we go for it. We're not going to let a car keep us from seeing that place. So from Paihia we drive north up to the remote and beautiful Cape.

Getting there is not too bad. We make it OK to the end of the "90-mile beach." After the busload of tourists leave, and a group of bicyclists on a fund-raising trip cycle back south, peace and serenity envelop us as we look in all directions. The blue waters of the Tasman Sea on the west and the Pacific Ocean on the east mix in confusion just off the point. We look south at the beautiful beach where we imagine Maori spirits walking toward us. Then along the coast just to the right of the lighthouse, there is a lone 800-year-old tree which has never flowered. Legend says Maori spirits slip down this tree by two springs. One spring cleanses before the spirits proceed on to their homeland; if a spirit drinks from the other spring, it returns to the living world. We observe the custom not eating or drinking there then quietly return south to the car and the real world.

But returning is not so easy. The car really starts having problems climbing hills, we creep up to the crests then accelerate down to get enough momentum to keep going. It seems we're being pulled backward. About halfway back, Henry stops to call the car rental agency. They assure him the car's just fine and offer no assistance without a mechanic's say-so. No, there's no mechanic nearby. So, we hope and continue, finding the least hilly route, finally getting back to Paihia for overnight. Then we manage to get to Auckland the next day. At the car agency, they offer to drive us in the same car to our hotel which is on top of one of Auckland's volcanoes. We turn up the hill and the car refuses to go any farther. We get out and walk the three blocks with our luggage to the hotel, happy to be out of that car at last, but also happy to have made it to Cape Reinga.

Tiri Tiri Matangi, Saturday, April 2

Greg, the Takahe, on Tiri

Our last day in New Zealand, we think about what would be a fitting end to this month-long trip. We're back in Auckland, without a car rental, and we wake up early to a blue sky. We decide to make the trip to Tiri Tiri Matangi Open Sanctuary and to take a volunteer-guided walking tour.

The boat departs from downtown pier 4. Everyone checks their packs and shoes to be sure they are clean. No hitchhiking alien seeds or mammals are welcome on the island. The fast catamaran takes about an hour and a half to reach the island. Along the way there are a few little blue penguins on the water. When we arrive, there is a ray under the dock.

Tiri Tiri Matangi (Maori for "looking to the wind") is one of the New Zealand islands which are being actively managed to ensure that native plants and birds survive. The island is open to the public, a source of concern. The Department of Conservation does not wait for natural regeneration of native systems. Harmful introduced species are killed. Many volunteers seed, weed, and then release endangered birds. Thanks to the endless hours of continuing work by school children and sanctuary afficionados, "Tiri" looks very different from its recent agrarian past. Newly restored native habitats and the birds are thriving. Much work remains to be done.

Many of New Zealand's native birds are threatened. Before colonization, these birds had few predators. After contact, birds' eggs and the young birds were easy prey for mice, rats, possums (an Australian marsupial), and others. Now in the island sanctuaries populations of these endemic species are rebounding. We see some birds in the brush with the help of our experienced guide, Alison. There are juvenile saddlebacks scrabbling in the duff, whiteheads looking for insects within reach, a single napping brown teal, a secretive North Island robin, melodious bellbirds, fancy fantails in the shade, a red-crowned parakeet on a sunny branch, a secretive North Island robin, assertive honey-eating tuis, and big, bold takahes.

Takahe birds (Porphyrio mantelli) are special. Once thought to be extinct, they were rediscovered in 1948 in Fjordland National Park. They now number about 200 individuals. Ground dwellers, their reproduction rate is low and predation (eggs and chicks) is high. Old Greg (pictured) hangs around the Tiri dock area in plain sight.

Back in Auckland, after a day in the sunshine and forest shadows, we talk about the day in a local pub on the way back to the Quadrant Hotel at the top of one of Auckland's five volcano cones. Tiri Tiri Matangi is the last and one of our best New Zealand times.