Kea Catching

We had always thought of kea as an alpine bird. At home in ski-field carparks and the top of mountains. I was a bit put out when I heard that Franny and Brent were studying kea at sea-level in Okarito forest. Franny tells an amusing story of a worried and kea phobic Okarito retiree, terrorised by the keas of Franz Joseph throughout her working years and worried about the "kea people" calling the keas into town. Franny and Brent as the kea pipers of Okarito! Little does she know they say that there is a strange old loner bird living just a couple of hundred metres from her seaside bach.

We had happened on a good day. A quick boat ride across Lake Mapourika in the early morning, a casual walk through the forest to Alpine Lake and a thrilling chopper ride out to Franz, back loading on the DOC Meet the Locals TV crew. It was great been in the bush. We stopped regularly while Franny and Brent released their pre-recorded birdsong on the jungle. Horace, our stuffed Kea decoy, was placed enticingly in a carefully planned spot surrounded by nooses. Nooses are sort of like lassoo's except you don't have to throw them and they're not made of rope. They're of a fine filament and they are carefully pre-arranged where the kea is most likely to land. The noose is linked up to a fishing rod device ready for the snatch to be made.

The first two suspects weren't impressed. One sat screeching at us on top of the giant stump (or remains) of an old kauri tree, the other flew powerfully past, then back, like a pendulum. Suspicious, Franny radio tracked the other and identified it as an already tagged bird. The third kea we encountered though was naive. Horace was one attractive looking kea. She flew in, first landing immediately above Penny and I nestled in prime spectator viewing positions, and then hopped over to ask Horace what on earth we were up to. With a snap of the wrist the noose was tightened and the kea flew seemingly into the arms of Franny and Brent (it may have been more complicated than that, but I was too slow to watch it all). They were stoked.

Penny's prize was to learn to hold a kea, cradle the bird and use one hand to control its head and beak. She handled it like a pro.

The kea was then "processed", you know like processed food. Out of Frannys bag of tricks came a radio transmitter, with nylon string to attach it, a beak measuring device, scales and other fandangos.

I think the kea was pleased to finally fly off back into the bush, leaving Horace to return to his bubbllewrap and us to wander down to the beautiful Alpine Lake and its idyllic hut to wait for the chopper. And what a way to get out of the bush, lifting quickly and skimming the rugged little hills of Okarito forest before the terrain plummets away to the Waihao river bed. Awesome.

Oh yeah, I was going to talk about 1080 and keas. Well the story as far as I can make out is that despite years of scepticism from DOC scientists, recent studies of kea mortality following an aerial 1080 drop have shown keas dying from 1080 poisoning. See the Kea Conservation Tust website here. One point it is always worth making is that much of the 1080 poisoning in NZ is undertaken by the animal health board in its ongoing battle with TB. A recent report states, "The combined total annual area of public conservation lands within AHB control operation boundaries in the eight regions over the period 2000/01– 2003/04 ranged from c. 250 000 to c. 460 000 ha."

But whatever way this does seem to be a big problem. Don't quote me on this, but about 1/3 of the keas habitat is under rotational TB control. Alarm bells seem to be ringing and DOC has teamed up with Landcare Research to investigate an effective bird repellent. It will be interesting to see what happens and if the planned drop in Okarito forest goes ahead.

After work on a friday...

I read Grant Hunter's "Coast to Coast: Who Was First" the other night. I know Grant a little, we share similar views on DOC's hostile approach to "commercially" organised events. The ever increasing outdoor fix of the masses. I like his book, it reminds me of a few other light history books that manage to present historical information without the narrator intruding too much in your interpretation.

The subject is "coast to coast", particularly the history concerning the route of the famous race. The theme is keeping an eye on the travellers focus on time and comparing that to todays event culture. Maori pathways are covered in good depth as are the stories of the first pakeha, exploreres, surveyors and sheepmen. The new stuff for me was the story of the recreationalists, starting with Mannering and Dixon (famously the first to use skis in NZ outside the lodge where I am working) through to the stopwatch trampers and early mountain runners. Theres a good account of the Mt Bealey Run (see below for my afterwork reccie), the precursor to the Avalanche Peak race, which was organised annually by locals through the 1970's. The inaugural event was won by Eric Saggers. Apparently with boots compulsory, many of the competitors chose skellerup gumboots because they were lighter! I was talking to a local in the pub tonight too, and she remembers sending her 11 year old son out on one of the races and worrying that he'd never make it back.

Probably my biggest disappointment of the book was its quick treatment of the Coast to Coast phenomenom, brushed by in a few pages, especially given that coast to coast photos are very prominent on the cover. Some good qualitative analysis of the culture of the racers compared to the earlier passers by, would have made interesting reading.

But anyway, inspired somewhat I thought I would go and check out the former Bealey Race circuit after work this evening. I have covered the terrain before but not for a while. The bushline is achievable in 30mins if you go solid, and its great to be up in the mountains in the sun as the village sinks into shade below.

The open tops are lovely. I could imagine the potential shortcuts and contested routes where racers tried to get that little advantage. The ridge narrows in places and there are huge slips off both sides. Down to the left are the Cora Lynn flats of the Waimak while off right mountains poke their heads up. I was in no hurry, enjoying the sun and the Crow glacier face of Rolleston.

While pipits were hanging around during the ascent it was keas that met me at the top, what choice birds they are. As I ran down the top of the scree they can hurtling over my head several times in pairs chasing each other, what an amazing bird they are!

The scree slope is long and intimidating, the top is loose and easy, but from about halfway down you have to pick your way more carefully. its about 15 minutes down to the river going along ok. I remembered rough creek as a pleasantish boulder hop, but the winter was hard on it. Avalanches have choked the creek with trees, slowing progress. With the rivers a bit high there were some commiting jumps to keep my feet dry and I sure wouldn't be sending my 11 year old down here! It was about 2 hours all up, and to be honest I can see why they don't run the race anymore! Not bad for a nice evening after work though.