I disembark on Ulva Island/Te Wharawhara. Soon it’s time to say goodbye to our seafaring feathered friends and return to solid ground. Seeing these magnificent birds up close is a highlight of my time out on the water. Other birds we don’t get eyes on but we do see evidence of, such as the stick-and-seaweed chimney-pot nests in branches overhanging the water’s edge that belong to the native pied cormorant ( Phalacrocorax varius).Ī group of of white-capped ( Thalassarche cauta steadi) and southern royal ( Diomedea epomophora) albatross bob around the boat.
Our visitors are a mixed group of of southern royal ( Diomedea epomophora) and white-capped ( Thalassarche cauta steadi) albatross.Īs they bob around the boat, I can only assume they have mistaken us for a fishing vessel with tasty scraps to share. At one point we’re surrounded by albatross, among the grandest of all birds. We skirt the open ocean, pulling into multiple bays and coves along the way, where we see native sea lions ( Phocarctos hookeri) and fur seals ( Arctocephalus forsteri) either lazing on beaches or cavorting in the shallows.Īs we make our way around the tip of the peninsula, our journey is peppered with encounters with Stewart Island shags ( Leucocarbo stewarti), ( Platalea regia), cape petrels ( Daption capense), and brown skuas ( Stercorarius antarcticus). Even white-fronted terns ( Sterna striata) hover overhead. Image credits: Candice MarshallĪfter saying goodnight to my kaka friend and retiring for the evening, I begin the next day back at the wharf, where I climb aboard Rakiura Charters’ catamaran Paikea for the first half of my “official” birding experience, a much-anticipated pelagic birdwatching cruise.
Variable oystercatchers ( Haematopus unicolor) take a beach stroll rat traps are a common sight around the island. They’re not pretty, but they’re doing an important job.
However, despite years of vigorous effort by NZ’s Department of Conservation and local community groups, deer and rats still prevail.Īll over the island I see evidence of the dedicated endeavour to eradicate rats – bait stations and traps, marked with fluorescent flags. While their mainland counterparts have fallen victim to introduced mammals and marsupials (chick and egg-eating types such as possums, stoats and ferrets) Stewart Island provides a haven from these feral predators, allowing birdlife to thrive. Its human population of 400 is far outnumbered by birdlife, with many of the approximately 130 avian species found here declared endangered or vulnerable nationally. Of the island’s 1570sq.km, 85 per cent is national park. The kaka ( Nestor meridionalis) is extremely rare on NZ’s main islands. But I thought I’d at least need to enter the bush to see them! Yet here I am on day one, having already encountered oystercatchers, two tui, and a kaka – tick, tick, and tick. I knew Stewart Island was famed for its abundance of rare native and endemic birds.
#Pocket flash cards sight words real objects full#
This particular kaka has a dominating presence, full of confidence as it stands tall, showing off its big crimson belly. This bird, however, has a good stronghold on many offshore islands, where numbers are recovering. With most of the species’ habitat lost to forestry operations and its ground nests vulnerable to introduced predators, a kaka is a rare sight on NZ’s main islands. When fully grown, this parrot reaches the size of an average domestic cat so it’s hard not to be impressed by its grand stature. I stare off into the distance, but my daydream state is broken by a sound coming from the raised garden bed beside me.Ī kaka ( Nestor meridionalis) has landed. It’s not long before I’ve found myself the perfect spot on the balcony, surrounded by garden, overlooking the wonderfully quaint Halfmoon Bay. On a high from my tui encounter, I stroll up the hillside to check in to my accommodation – Stewart Island Lodge. Stewart Island/Rakiura is home to New Zealand’s southernmost community. The tui are adorned with deep-blue, green, purple and bronze glossy feathers – a royal-looking plumage that contrasts delightfully with a quirky white fluffy tuft on their throats. Upon closer inspection, there among the branches is not one, but two tui ( Prosthemadera novaeseelandiae). The pair – also endemic to NZ – are nonchalantly going about their business, feeding on the nectar of a native flax/harakeke, one of the country’s most ancient plant species, blissfully unaware of the human admiring them from below. While continuing along the bay and through the small township of Oban – the only settled area of this remote island 30km south of NZ’s South Island – my attention is drawn to rustling leaves in a small tree just off the footpath.
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