Regional Travel /
Walking the
Banks Track
The Banks Track in Akaroa describes itself as a feast for the senses, a feed for the soul and a
feat for the spirit. But the heart is the story of how the landowners have tirelessly dedicated
themselves to regenerating the land ravaged for its resources, back to its natural state.
Isquinted up at the track that weaved up a never-ending mountain, wiping the sweat out of my eyes. My hands dropped to my aching knees as I tried to catch my breath, and cursed myself out loud for not being fitter. ‘Go on ahead!’ I shouted over to my new walking buddies, worried that I was slowing them down. We were only an hour into the steep ascent that marks the first leg of the Banks Track, and I had blisters the size of golf balls, my hydration pack hose was stuck down my back leaking water, and I was burning up underneath my thermals.
‘Don’t worry about it! Take your time,’ Julian, a skipper for the local Black Cat Cruises shouted back. He gestured towards Alister, a local photographer who was also part of our party – he didn’t even notice I’d collapsed on the path, he was busily snapping the panoramic views over Akaroa Harbour. ‘We’re in no rush.’ And that was something I was very glad of, because the wild beauty of the Banks Track in Akaroa is definitely best appreciated at a leisurely pace.
The 31 km track, first imagined 30 years ago by nine local families, has a reputation for being one of New Zealand’s finest private tracks. Over the three days we hiked grazing land, native forest gullies, cool running waterfalls and wild rugged coastline, with seals, penguins, dolphins and all manner of birds aplenty. It’s a unique track – not only because it’s all privately owned farmland – but because all the landowners are doggedly dedicated to conservation and are a prime example of how regenerating the land back to its native state can result in an income stream to support not just those that live on it, but a huge amount of biodiversity.
The story of how the trail came to be starts in the ’80s, when farmers were reeling from rock-bottom wool prices, a fierce drought and the obliteration of farm subsidies. They
quickly realised they’d have to supplement their income another way.
Around this time, botanist Hugh Wilson and Christchurch businessman Maurice White had purchased
109 ha of farmland, Hinewai, with the intention of regenerating native forest. Seven Banks Peninsula farming families joined Hinewai’s founders and devised the track, New Zealand’s first hut-to-hut trail on private land. It’s been a huge success. Since 1989 they’ve hosted over 36,000 walkers, and have been able to use the funds for trapping, conservation work, and the upkeep of the track.
All passionate about conservation, these landowners are instrumental in healing a landscape that’s been ravaged for its natural resources. It’s a real treat we get the chance to meet some of them on this trip.
At Ōnuku, where the track starts with an overnight stay (there’s an option to stay in a stargazing hut, but the comfy, toasty warm lodge wins out) we are joined by Jack Gibbs and his wife Charlotte, who have turned over 20 per cent of their land to regeneration and dedicated much of their time and resources to help rid the region of pests including possums, stoats, rats and feral cats. With over 40 bait stations over
300 acres, and Jack and Charlotte’s daughter Miranda working four days a week, they’ve managed to get numbers down. Jack tells us they’ve caught 153 possums since September, a drop of about 120 since last season. Jack is also a trustee of the Banks Peninsula Conservation Trust which has been the lead coordinator in the Pest Free Banks Peninsula, which is just starting to get underway.
‘The track has been a great success in its longevity and the fact that it’s achieved its original goal,’ says Jack. ‘These were farmers in the late ’80s that were close to going bust and they thought this could be a way they could diversify. I don’t think any of them ever dreamt we’d still be going 30 years later.’
Back on the track, I’ve adjusted my pack, changed my shoes, located my hydration pack hose and we’re back on the uphill climb to the Trig, the highest point on the trail at 699 m above sea level. The life-affirming 360-degree view across the harbour and the Pacific convince us it’s time for a well-earned lunch.
The track then turns downhill, cutting through farmland onto a small road. And quite suddenly, we’re surrounded by beech forest, with the chorus of birds and bubbling streams.
The track through Tutakākāhikura Scenic Reserve meanders down the streamline and past several waterfalls, where we wash our hot sweaty faces. Sitting quietly, the forest comes alive around us. We see a pipit, a couple of very chatty tuis (which have only just been reintroduced to Banks Peninsula with great success), tomtits and bellbirds, silvereyes and kererū.
It’s a few hours later that we arrive at Flea Bay, our accommodation for the night. It’s a comfy, character-filled 130-year-old farm cottage shrouded in history; historic photographs line the hall, offering a fascinating glimpse into a station that once supported three families and a large dairy. Our group wanders down to see Francis and Shireen Helps, who host a flourishing little penguin/kororā population – the biggest on mainland New Zealand.
‘We were going to make this farm work, get the fences up, get the gorse under control,’ says Francis, who bought the farm when he was 21, back in 1969. ‘But we realised really quickly there was some really special stuff here. All species of New Zealand tree fern are in these bays, ancient red beech, historic sites including a Māori pā site called Pae Karoro,
All passionate about conservation, these landowners are instrumental in healing a landscape that’s been ravaged for its natural resources.