Christchurch
One of the joys of travel is, of course, seeing new things – like on a visit to New Caledonia recently where an unusual pine caught our attention.
Mary Lovell-Smith takes in the unique pines of New Caledonia.
It had come as no surprise that the gardens of Noumea, the capital of New Caledonia, were lush with beautiful, exotic (to me, anyway) and brilliantly coloured blooms and foliage. Nor was it a surprise that I could not recognise much of the flora, for New Caledonia is considered one of the world’s great biodiversity hotspots. Of its more than 3300 plant species, about 77 per cent are endemic – out of all the Pacific island groups, only Hawaii and New Zealand have a higher percentage of endemic species.
Unlike most Pacific islands which are of relatively recent volcanic origin, the chain of islands that make up New Caledonia were once, like New Zealand, part of Gondwanaland. Consequently, ancient plant families are well represented, such as the gymnosperms, a group that includes conifers such as the Araucariacea.
The kauri is New Zealand’s most famous member of the Araucariacea family; Australia’s is the relatively recently discovered Wollemi pine; and New Caledonia’s is the distinctive Araucaria columnaris, or Pin colonnaire as the French call it. Also known as Cook’s pine for Captain James Cook who, the story goes, on approaching the archipelago in 1774 on board the Resolution, had difficulty determining whether the “vast cluster… of elevated objects” were trees or large stone pillars.
These towering trees are no less fascinating today.
Like the Italian cypresses of the Mediterranean, the columnar pines are commonplace around New Caledonia, piercing the skyline with their sometimes elegant, sometimes ungainly, stature – often their sleek shape is marred by a knobbly top.
The columnar pines resemble the Norfolk pine ( Araucaria heterophylla), though the Norfolk – being pyramidal rather than tapering – can seem bulky in comparison. Both can grow to 60m, but the columnar pine’s shorter branches make it a more slender species. It is also distinguishable from the Norfolk pine by its bark, which is grey and papery, and falls off in thin strips.
Although it naturally does not occur more than 100m from the shoreline, it has been spread throughout the archipelago by indigenous peoples and Europeans. The beautiful lle des Pins, the country’s southernmost island, is named for them; the striking primeval pine stands soar above the vibrant aquamarine waters and white beaches.
Wandering the streets of Noumea, we can’t help noticing that many of these columnar pines are growing at an angle.
It’s a charming yet slightly disconcerting sight, looking as though a cyclone has barrelled through, pushing some of the spires over, sparing others.
Not every columnar pine is affected – although more than 90 per cent are, according to a 2017 study by American researchers, which measured 256 of the pines across 18 regions on five continents, including New Caledonia. They discovered that the pines lean towards the Equator. While the average slant is 8.05 degrees, the further away from the Equator, the greater the tilt. The researchers have not yet been able to discern the reason for this strange and highly unusual habit; while many plants may lean toward light as they grow, most self-correct through a mechanism which allows trees to detect gravity at a molecular level, and direct roots and shoots towards or away from the ground respectively.
The pines are not common in New Zealand, though demanding only a frostfree position, they easily grow in the north of the country. A 150-year-old specimen grows in the Auckland domain. Planted in 1869 by Queen Victoria’s second son Prince Alfred, the Duke of Edinburgh, the tree is now estimated to be 44m tall.
Would I want one in my garden? Of course. It’s a fascinating tree and would be an enduring memento of our lazy hazy sojourn. I’ve got just the spot. ✤