Tiritiri Matangi: Island sanctuary bursting with life

Tiritiri Matangi is a New Zealand evolutionary park nestled in the Hauraki Gulf. There are no dinosaurs like Jurassic Park, except for the tuatara who were around when dinosaurs walked the earth. But it has the feel of a prehistoric encounter.

Tiritiri is a small island reverted to its natural habitat, bursting with history and science, used as a research laboratory to repopulate rare and endangered New Zealand species.

The island is not the grassy piece of land I remember from my childhood, when it was being farmed. It has become an Open Scientific Reserve managed by the Department of Conservation (DOC) in partnership with the Supporters of Tiritiri Matangi and local iwi. Trip Advisor lists the island as the number one destination when visiting Auckland.

“We have taken something altered by humans, a farming environment, and have returned it to some of its native flora and fauna – to what it was like before man changed it,” says Supporters of Tiritiri Matangi chairman Brian Chandler.

“Tiritiri Matangi is a major source of translocation of birds around the country. We don’t make a big song and dance about it. Everything we do is good, there’s no bad here.”

The island is located 30km northeast of central Auckland. It takes just over an hour to get there from downtown Auckland by ferry.

The island was farmed for 120 years.  Between 1984 and 1994, volunteers planted more than 280,000 trees. The island now is 60% forested, with grassland spaces left for species preferring open habitat. Predators have been eradicated from the island and a number of threatened and endangered bird and reptile species have been successfully introduced. Species include one of the world’s rarest species, the flightless takahe, and the tuatara.

Visitors must bring their own food and water to the island. Any rubbish must be taken be taken back with them off the island and there is a shoe check to ensure no pests are brought in.

In Māori, the word Tiritiri Matangi means “tossed by the wind”. As we hopped off the ferry to the island jetty at Hobbs Beach we were tossed by a brutally cold Antarctic wind. It was June, the beginning of winter.

We waited patiently onshore ready for our adventure to begin, putting our backs to the icy wind.  DOC  ranger Vonny Spray stood on top of a pillar, yelling across the cold wind, advising the dos and don’ts while on the island. We are advised:

• The money paid for the guided walk goes back to the projects on the island.
• Everything on the island is protected.
• We are asked to check our shoes again.
• We are told not to feed the birds. Feeding will alter their behaviour and possibly make the birds sick.
• We must watch our footing. There are accidents on the island from visitors slipping and falling, not concentrating on where they are walking.
• Smoking is permitted in only two places on the island.

We were formed into our guided walking groups by guide supervisor Mary-Ann Rowland. Unlike my European holiday travels, where tourists are packed into tour groups of 40 or 50 and you never hear the guide, we were in groups of four or five. The small size meant we received our own personalised half-day educational experience.

Our guide was Isabel Morris, a charismatic Scottish woman in her late 60s, a teacher who had volunteered as a guide on the island for the last 12 years. Morris has been in New Zealand for 14 years. She had originally visited the island with a school group as a teacher educating her class on evolution and conservation, and decided to become a Supporters of Tiritiri Matangi guide after being so impressed with her experience.

In our group, there was a young woman from Holland, a forensic scientist from Belgium, and a man travelling from Canada wearing a t-shirt and cargo pants. Apparently, it felt like summer to him and he didn’t know what all the fuss was about. It turned out he worked in remote areas of Canada with grizzly bear, cougars and wolves. On the guided walk, he had the knack of hearing the birds far earlier than the rest of us could spot them, which is down to his experience in listening out for dangerous mammals at home.

All in all, an interesting group of people to spend the day with.

Following the line where the dense bush met the beach we began our experience along the coastline of Hobbs Beach.

We started picking up rubbish from the littered shoreline. This rubbish was washed up from the mainland. A KFC chip bucket, a perky nana wrapper and a straw lay amongst the stones on the beach.

While we were walking a fantail flitted in and out of our legs like fairy dancing in the rays of the morning shards of light shining through the bushes. It was an opportunist looking for insects, but for us it was a delight to have a little dancer accompanying us down the beach.

An oyster catcher was spotted sitting on the rocks leading down to the ocean. Morris told us how last year the oyster catcher nested on the beach before us where the boaties anchor in the summer. A section of the beach had been cordoned off to humans for the birds and it was quite a comical sight. The oyster catchers defended their territory vehemently, parading up and down their fence line, while people squeezed into small spaces on either side of the beach trying to keep out of their way.

We headed inland a little following the path along the coastline. Along the coastal walkway was an embankment going up the hill. There were many small holes which could have been dug out for nests but whoever started them must have had a change of plan halfway. The holes were not big enough to be nests but maybe the start of a burrowing.

Morris told us about one keen photographer who visited with a very impressive camera. He heard a little bird chirp chirp chirping from a hole in the embankment and decided he would set up camp outside the hole to capture a photo of the baby bird’s first venture into sunlight. The little bird did emerge but not in the way the man expected. The baby bird peeped its head out, turned around and projected a shot of poo at quite a speed into the man’s camera lens.

“Nature isn’t always predictable,” said Morris.

Walking along the coastline we had our first glimpse of a North Island saddleback on the forest floor. We were told saddlebacks mate for life. The saddleback chicks from last year will remain with the family and it will be a family unit.

Saddlebacks have black bodies with and orange saddle on their back, hence the name. They looked graceful and picturesque against the bush backdrop.

Morris pointed out a giant pohutakawa many hundreds of years old. We were told that tui and bellbirds love these trees in Christmas for their red flowers. They drink the nectar from the flowers.

Morris explained there are 50 species of ferns on the island that are all naturally evolved and were not planted there. We were shown one plant gloriously named the shining spleenwort.

We followed the path as it headed inland into denser bush. Morris pointed to an embankment on the hill side of the path.

“Petrels come in and nest on this coastal path – we call it the petrel station,” said Morris.

I laughed – that must be conservation humor.

We carried on inwards into the island and came across a handful of loud tui being very vocal high above us. They were large, bigger than I have seen on the mainland, their white crests puffed up.

In June tui are setting up their territories for nesting. We were told they are aggressive nesting birds who do well on the mainland. They are top of the pecking order in the bird world.

We spotted a wood pigeon in another tree nearby. It sat alone looking majestic on a branch that struggled under its weight.

“They are the second heaviest pigeon in the world,” said Morris.

As we headed deeper inland we heard “cheep” “cheep” “cheep”. It was a family of whitehead.

“Whiteheads are the first intentionally introduced species,” said Morris. “They have a gorgeous canary-like song.”

Close to the whiteheads a North Island robin was spotted looking for bugs. Morris swept the ground on the embankment. The little robin backed off but as we stood still it fluttered within reaching distance searching for insects in the disturbed ground.

Morris said 40 robins were taken from the island this year for relocation into other safe conservation areas. Twenty birds were relocated to Shakespeare park on Auckland’s North Shore and another 20 birds went to conservation land in Whangarei.

“Being able to repopulate endangered birds to other safe conservation areas has meant Tiritiri has sparked off programmes around the country,” said Morris.

Along the path we saw a flurry of activity around a wired fenced bird feeder. Stitchbirds with beautifully marked yellow feathers flew in and out of the feeder, which contained raw sugar and water to support their nectar-feeding habit.

“Stitchbirds were resettled to Tiritiri from Little Barrier Island,” said Morris. “It is a breed that was on the verge of extinction, almost completely wiped out from New Zealand.”

They are a promiscuous bird, which has bred well on the island. “There can be four different fathers in one nest, but I suppose they have to do this for survival,” said Morris.

Supporters of Tiritiri Matangi chairman Brian Chandler says the stitchbird programme has attracted a lot of overseas interest, with the University of London providing a source of funding and using this research overseas. “There is a lot of international interest in the scientific research gained on Tiritiri, species in New Zealand are different from anywhere else.”

The feeders also attract the bellbirds, who were the one land species of bird who survived on the island when it was farmland.

The bellbirds survived purely on the puriri trees that remained on the island when it was being farmed. They are covered in flowers and fruit all year around, providing a food source.

Along the boardwalk we came across a viewing platform. Looking up the hill into a forest was one of New Zealand’s oldest pohutukawa trees, estimated to be 800–1000 years old. Its branches sprawled out across the forest floor like a matriarchal spider from a Harry Potter movie. I didn’t have a wide angled lens to capture the twist and turns of the branches, but standing lower on the hill looking up you have a sense of age: this tree has been through a lot of changes in the past two centuries.

High above us there was an alarm call, and a racket overhead.  It was the kokako bouncing off branches in a scurry of movement up above.

“The kokako song is reportedly the most beautiful in the world,” said Morris. “They can’t fly very far but they have the uncanny ability to modulate their sounds.”

Finally, the path led into open space of grassland leading up a hill.

It was a beautiful clear day and as we turned around the view of the surrounding islands was spectacular. I could make out the shape of Kawau directly behind us. The large mountainous island to our left was Little Barrier. Great Barrier was bigger in land space but lower in height. The headland we could see in front of us was the tip of the Coromandel.

In front of us, peeping over the tree line, was the Tiritiri lighthouse. It was built in 1864 and is planned to become an historical museum. I must admit I felt an affinity to the lighthouse. There is something about fog, the light and ships passing through the harbor that connects you to the past.

Another little fantail flitted around us like a fairy chasing fairy dust, searching for insects.

Our guided walk ended at the lighthouse, where a family of takahe have set up a nest. DOC ranger Vonny Spray said the most enjoyable part of her job is seeing the takahe every morning in her back yard.

The takahe are slow breeders, and have not flourished on the island. DOC’s takahe recovery team have a new recovery site in Kahurangi National Park, with around 30 birds needed to establish the population. All but two of the Tiritiri takahe will be sent there. When birds are on the edge of extinction, the science requires the genetic pool to be mixed, meaning birds need to be relocated for the good of the species.

“Birds are always on loan to the island,” Chandler said.

“For endangered species the importance is on genetic diversity.  The Supporters of Tiritiri Matangi run the island but DOC have the ultimate say over the species living on the island.”

At the end of the walk I sat in the cafeteria and had a coffee with the guides. There was a sugar tree on the table. It’s a small touch but at the end of the walk on a chilly clear day, it’s a very pleasant refreshment.

“The biggest thing about the island is education. People usually come here with a purpose,” said Morris.

“Tiritiri plays a significant role as education for our schools, especially to those lower decile schools. These kids won’t ever appreciate the value of conservation and help to prevent extinction unless they see it with their own eyes.”

The guides agree that most kids who visit the island leave in awe of nature and they return to the mainland with a much bigger view of life.

Supporters of Tiritiri Matangi volunteer Rose Coveney said: “A South Auckland boy was blown away by the fact nothing had graffiti.

“He couldn’t conceive a world without people messing around with it.”