We all need koala cuddles
Australia’s version of the Galapagos Islands was badly burned in recent bushfires, but Brook Sabin and Radha Engling discover why Kiwis should still head there.
It’s hard to imagine the fear our guide Gavin Mathews experienced just two months ago. The young wildlife expert sat on a friend’s roof on a windy summer’s night, and saw an apocalyptic scene bearing down at a frenzied pace.
The horizon had turned into a towering wall of red, and many feared the unthinkable was about to happen: the main town of Kingscote, considered the last refuge on Kangaroo Island, could be destroyed.
Mathews had a small boat ready. His survival plan was simple: head to sea, and watch the island burn.
To put it all into context, the island is roughly the same size as the entire Auckland region. If the fire started in Pukekohe, Mathews was sitting in Warkworth, wondering if the fire would reach his home.
There is silence in the car as he recalls the story, but it’s soon interrupted by the brakes slamming on. I turn my head to the left, look out the window, and staring straight back at me – less than three metres away – is a curious koala.
If being the cutest animal in the world was an Olympic sport, koalas would be a guaranteed gold medalist. What’s in front of me looks like a miniature furry Yoda, of Star Wars fame, and he’s continually shooting laser beams of cuteness straight into my heart, which is melting.
Much of the world got to know Kangaroo Island just a few months ago, for all the wrong reasons.
Video of scorched national parks that frankly resembled a nuclear blast, beamed across the world.
Two local people were killed, and more than 50 homes were destroyed. But as the flames dissipated, so too did the international attention.
What was left was extraordinary despair, with an equal amount of remarkable resilience.
It’s estimated more than half of the island’s 50,000 koalas were killed, helpless in the face of the inferno. It’s also not yet known how many rare species were completely wiped out.
With tourism and farming – the island’s two primary earners – on the brink of collapse,
Australians rallied around the southern sanctuary, launching the #bookthemout campaign. Likewise, New Zealanders are being told it’s a great time to show support for an island that is regarded as the ‘‘Galapagos of Australia’’.
So what remains of this wildlife wonderland? We spent two of the most remarkable days I’ve ever had finding out.
Green shoots of recovery
‘‘We’d love to see a koala in the wild,’’ was our simple request at the airport as Mathews greeted us. His grin indicated we’d be easy to please.
Less than a kilometre from the airport, with the runway just out of sight, he pulled over and told us to look up. Snuggled in a branch, overhanging the road, was our welcoming committee: albeit one that had fallen asleep.
Having previously looked for wild koalas on the mainland, which felt like we’d have more luck spotting a unicorn, seeing one within the first few minutes gave me goosebumps.
Before we embark on our proper koala safari, we drive down to Seal Bay, a vast conservation area that was spared from the fires. It’s the only place in the world where you can walk into a colony of around 1000 Australian sea lions, getting within metres of these magnificent creatures.
The seals are very inquisitive, coming right up to tourists (it’s why you need a guide with you at all times). We see pups suckling their mothers, teenagers playing in the surf, and males prancing around the colony.
A large Rosenberg’s goanna, which dates from the time of the dinosaurs, appears from the sand dunes. It’s a remarkable moment: we have seals playing in front of us, and a Jurassic lizard competing for our attention behind.
We leave the seal sanctuary to find a hidden road, lined with eucalyptus trees. It’s as if the koalas have formed a guard of honour. As we drive, dozens are perched in the trees staring at us.
After getting out and taking photos of 15 koalas (a near-record for Mathews), we race across the island to watch the sunset above a large mob of kangaroos.
On the way, we once again come to an abrupt stop, to witness a rare echidna on the hunt for food.
We also enter a zone of destruction. The dense greens suddenly transform into an unearthly charred landscape. On an island of just 4500, everyone can recall an incredible story of survival.
We’re told of locals who gathered in a cricket oval to wait out the fire in a car. As the land burned
around them, they kept the car moving slowly so the wheels wouldn’t melt.
We eventually arrive at a remote rugged plain lined with cliffs. In every direction, kangaroos graze under the glow of sunset. We see a tiger snake sleeping on the road. This is the Serengeti of Australia.
We end the day checking into a new glamping village overlooking the ocean. The rooms are like luxury hotel units lined with canvas, and we fall asleep to the meditative patter of rain on the roof.
A date with a tree teddy
A helicopter swoops overhead as we reach the Kangaroo Island Wildlife Park. Our new guide for the day, Becky Westwood, explains it’s equipped with heat-sensing equipment and is searching for alive but starving koalas in burnt areas. Just a few days earlier, around 500 had been found.
The wildlife park has become the island’s headquarters of koala recovery, with more than 600 treated for burns. Sadly, half didn’t make it. The Australian Army, deployed to help with the recovery, help in their spare time.
The park is also home to koalas you can cuddle. They weigh about 10 kilograms, but cling to your body with a gentle hug, eating leaves out of your hand and snuggling up under your chin.
It was a life-changing moment for my partner, Radha, who cried. Her No 1 goal in life is now to become a professional koala hugger.
We spent the rest of the day exploring remote turquoise bays – one accessed through a hidden cave. The beaches could be straight out of Fiji.
We also head deeper into the fire-affected area, where the scenes get increasingly apocalyptic. As far as the eye can see, the land has been stripped of all life.
But once the eyes adjust to the destruction, you begin to notice something incredible. Many trees are already starting to sprout green shoots.
The recovery has started. It will, however, take many years, especially for the national parks, where the intensity of the fire turned many trees to ash. In the meantime, the island needs our help. There is still incredible wildlife to experience, and it’s not just koalas that need a cuddle. The locals do, too.
The writer’s trip was supported by South Australia Tourism and Air New Zealand.