We were only a short distance from Taupō central, but it seemed a world away from the hustle and bustle of town.
We entered through the gated, 5.5km, 2-m-plus-high Xcluder fence that protects wildlife within from the unwelcome and destructive presence of mustelids, rodents, feral cats and possums.
A short uphill led us to the Gallagher Kiwi Burrow. This specialist facility is managed by Save the Kiwi and serves as an incubation, hatchery and brooding facility for kaweka or North Islandbrown kiwi.
In the wild, kiwi have only a 5% survival rate. The dwindling population of our native bird — perhaps we should say that quietly as we learn kiwi may have an Australian lineage — is improved to at least 65% when the eggs are nurtured in this protected environment.
From a hushed and darkened corridor, we watched as their carers gently weighed, candled and turned those precious eggs. How on earth does the poor female walk or breathe with an egg 25% of her body weight inside her, let alone deliver such an egg?
Thankfully, it is the male that takes the responsibility for incubating it.
Through the candled shell the bird’s development is followed. We saw eggs where, to the untrained eye, the bird was an unrecognisable small, pink oval shadow and others where the telltale darkening was obviously feathers and the chick took up most of the space within the shell.
The latter shells wobbled as the bird inside recognised a kiwi-sounding call. The magic weight for translocation from the sanctuary is 1kg, when these feisty birds can use their strong, marrow-centred legs to fight off predators. Incidentally, those weighty legs are one reason kiwi don’t fly.
All too soon it was time to leave the kiwi to their growing and explore more of the 180ha property. Designed by Commander Harris, M. Wolveridge and P. Thomson, recent construction includes new water hazards and ongoing remedial work courtesy of Cyclone Gabrielle.
A large tōtara swept past on a tractor and was transplanted into a waiting hole on the other side of the property. Concrete paths and mown fairways and greens were lined with natives, redwoods, larches and flowering blossom trees.
Deer, guineafowl, noisy, brightly coloured roosters, coots, geese, tῡī and Californian quail all added an international flavour to the wandering wildlife. Kārearea swooped over our heads and into pine trees. These birds make a scrape on the ground rather than a nest, and will dive-bomb people in defence of their eggs or chicks. A surprise hazard for unwary golfers.
Not only does the area serve as a creche for young kiwi, but it was to be a retirement home for a pair of takahē. Apparently, no one told the birds they were too old and there is now a small but growing population of young birds. They were shy today and we only caught a glimpse of a bright-red beak behind dense foliage.
As we exited, the hōkioi, or extinct Haast eagle, atop the carved tōtara pouwhenua towered, wings outstretched, above us. Perched on an entwining vine of life are the carvings of a further 30 native birds. It seemed a symbolic reminder of what could be lost if we fail to preserve habitat and provide protection from predators.
Many thanks to the kiwi carers, our guide and the owner for welcoming such a large group of manuhiri to see conservation in action and walk the course. We applaud all your work in nurturing our kiwi icon.
It’s back to unmanicured tracks next week. If you would like to join us or for more information, please email walkersmondaytaupo@gmail.com or follow us on Facebook at “Taupō Monday Walkers”.