Stepping into a Real-Life Jurassic Park
Rare Birds and Native Forest at Rotokare Scenic Reserve
Knowing we were interested in wildlife, our Airbnb host suggested visiting Lake Rotokare. ‘It’s predator-free – you’ll love it!’
That was enough of a recommendation for us, although we were not sure what to expect. We drove for an hour through small sheep-farming communities. For much of the journey, Mount Taranaki rose majestically to our left, its top clear of cloud, unlike the day we climbed it. The lower flanks of the volcano were dark green thanks to their covering of native bush, but our drive was through monotonous grass monoculture. As the volcano receded behind us, the landscape became more lively, with hills replacing the flat expanse around it. A few trees dotted the fields but nothing to prepare us for what came next.
One minute, we were driving along the road towards the lake. The next, we were confronted by what looked like a high-security border checkpoint. All that was missing was armed guards. A two-metre-high gate barred the road, attached to a fence that ran as far as we could see in either direction. An overhang along the top of the fence and gate stopped anything (or anyone) from climbing over, and a skirt along the bottom of the gate made it snug against the ground.
On our side of the fence, monoculture grass pastures ruled. On the far side, riotous, lush rainforest crowded up to the fenceline as if trying to escape.
A sign asked drivers to check their vehicles for stowaway mice and other undesirables. How on earth do you do that? We had driven for the best part of an hour to get there, so figured we probably did not have any mice under the bonnet. We kicked our tyres in case any had jumped into the frame while we had been reading the sign, although that seemed unlikely.
We pushed the button to open the gate and edged forward into a similarly fenced containment area. CCTV cameras followed our progress. Once the first gate had shut and no critters had obviously entered with us, the one in front opened into the reserve. We had never seen anything like it; it was reminiscent of the entrance to Jurassic Park, although this fence is designed to keep predators out, not in.
Rotokare Scenic Reserve is a predator-free zone. New Zealand split from the mega continent of Gondwana 80 million years ago and drifted to its current position. For some time, it was underwater, re-emerging about 23 million years ago. Its distance from other landmasses meant no mammals reached these islands until humans arrived. In the interim, birds did make the crossing. Without ground-based predators, many became ground-nesting and lost the ability to fly.
Fast forward to the 14th century, when humans arrived with rats and dogs. Later, they introduced rabbits for food and fur, then stoats to catch the rabbits. The pattern was repeated for the next few centuries. As the mammals (including humans) took hold, the native birds began to suffer.
First, the big birds were hunted to extinction. Then, the smaller birds had to contend with mammals competing for food and nesting sites - and eating their eggs. Even our lovely hedgehogs are villains in this part of the world.
So, all over New Zealand, mammal traps can be seen in the bush, even in this' predator-free zone'. The only predators that are now routinely caught here are mice, and only a handful each year, always near the car park. Our car was probably not a high risk compared to campervans and motorhomes that travel around with stashes of attractive food and multiple hiding places. I can see how easy it would be to accidentally bring more of the critters in.
The reserve is 230 hectares but only has two footpaths – one around the lake and one along the fence so it can be checked. Although this was frustrating for us, it means that there is plenty of undisturbed wilderness here for the animals. Having said that, we were surprised to find that power boats are allowed on the lake and that people are welcome to stay overnight in a tent or motorhome. The former raised some scowls when our enjoyment of the birdsong was impinged by loud boats, and the latter raised smiles; if only places in England were so accommodating of overnight camping.
The bird life in the reserve was astonishing. The first was similar to a blackbird but a bit smaller. A broad, deep copper band ran around its whole torso, and the bird’s name reflects this – saddleback (tīeke in Māori). Saddlebacks were reintroduced to the reserve once predators had been reduced to a manageable level.
The next was at a bird feeding station that looked like Fort Knox. The birds could push through a small hole into the feeder, which was otherwise surrounded by fine mesh. It had a solid plastic roof and base. A trap was positioned underneath in case the feeder attracted unwanted visitors. After all, strengthening the predator population while feeding the birds would be a rather retrograde step.
A small black bird was inside the feeder, mainly hidden by all those protections. After it had left, I took a closer look at the feeding station, and two of the same birds came straight over – it seemed that they associate humans with food. They clung to the feeder and looked at me inquisitively. I tried to quieten my breathing and dared not move in case I scared them off. They had white tufts atop their heads, which they flicked up as they stared. A yellow band on their shoulders led to multicoloured wings. It didn’t take long for them to realise that I wasn’t the source of more food, but what a sighting! We saw more as we walked but never had such a good view again. These were stitchbirds (hihi).
As we continued walking around the lake, we heard a piercing tweet. A few seconds of peering through the trees identified its source – a New Zealand robin, sitting on a branch, perhaps warning others in the area of our presence. These robins are similar in size and shape to ours, but they are black with occasional flecks of white - not a red breast in sight!
Having completed our walk, we were sitting at a picnic table eating our lunch when we were joined by some more birds. This time, they were a commonplace species that we hadn’t already seen. Tomtits (miromiro) are similar in size and shape to British tits but have much bigger heads.
What a day! Predator fences like the one surrounding Rotokare Scenic Reserve are built at great expense and need constant maintenance. Here, agreements have been made with surrounding farmers to create a ‘halo’ of intensive trapping around the reserve. It’s a lot of cost and a lot of effort, but what reward!
Next week, we’re in the mountains, in Lord of the Rings country. (Sorry, it’s hard not to mention Lord of the Rings when you’re writing about New Zealand. I promise I won’t do it much… except when we visit Hobbiton, of course.)