Let’s savour our fragile paradise
I’ve just returned from the Alaskan fjords, where more than a million tourists visit each year on cruise ships. They go to witness an icy wilderness, where hulking glaciers crawl down the mountains, contorting in a slow-motion ballet towards the ocean.
I met a few other Kiwis on the ship, and asked them all the same question: have you seen the glaciers in New Zealand? Of the six I asked, only two had.
That’s hard to fathom.
New Zealand is blessed with one of the easiest to reach glaciers in the world, Franz Josef on the West Coast. It’s a 45-minute walk from the carpark.
Just like the glaciers in Alaska, Franz Josef is thought to have once reached the sea. It is now disappearing at an alarming rate.
A recent study found one-third of the ice had melted in our most significant glaciers since the 1970s, an extraordinary finding when you consider some date to the last Ice Age.
Scientists now warn that future generations may not be able to see the likes of Franz Josef Glacier from ground level within 100 years.
At such a critical time, I would have assumed Kiwis would be flocking to see our glaciers in record numbers before it’s too late.
However, the evidence doesn’t support that. A 2015 Department of Conservation visitor survey revealed just 12 per cent of those walking to see the West Coast glaciers were domestic tourists.
In other words, the vast majority, 88 per cent, were overseas tourists.
While exploring the West Coast last year, I also went for a hike on a glacier.
Our guide joked that he was more likely to see kiwi (the bird) than Kiwi travellers walking the ice. He estimated that about one in 50 glacier walkers were from New Zealand.
It still surprises me that we choose to get on long-haul flights to explore foreign lands, when we have some of the world’s best tourism experiences in our backyard. I suffer from it too. I seriously considered doing a glacier walk in Alaska when it was never really on my radar back home before I did it.
And perhaps it should have been, because like many parts of the world, elements of our backyard are in a fragile state.
The god of the forest
I think few Kiwis genuinely appreciate the devastating impact kauri dieback is having on our taonga of the forest.
The Government warns our mighty native is threatened with extinction, because at this stage, there is no cure for the disease, which effectively starves the tree to death.
Alarmingly, our largest kauri, Ta¯ ne Ma¯ huta, is at risk after thriving for 2500 years.
The nearest tree with kauri dieback is just 60 metres away, and its future may hang on something as small as a pinhead of soil, which can spread the disease.
Babies of the sea
The Hector’s dolphin – the smallest in the world – can only be found in New Zealand waters.
There are two subspecies of the Hector’s: the Ma¯ ui’s dolphin (found off the coast of Taranaki) and the South Island Hector’s dolphin.
We are potentially witnessing the final moments of the Maui’s, with an estimated 57 to 75 remaining. Without urgent action, this charming little mammal could be extinct within 30 years.
New Zealanders can still get a glimpse of the similar-looking South Island Hector’s dolphin, many of which call Banks Peninsula home. The population is still considered endangered, with a population estimated at 15,000.
In Akaroa, several companies offer year-round dolphin spotting and even a chance to swim with these little aquatic bundles of joy. A portion of your fare is also used to fund research into the dolphins.
Getting in the water is only done under strict rules. Specifically, if the dolphins are in the mood, and they usually indicate this by playing around the boat.
I was lucky enough to go swimming with a small pod, and enjoyed a close encounter. I couldn’t help but think how this little dolphin was showing nothing but respect for me, coming up and playing. Yet, my species – humans – are largely responsible for its decline.
(Un)sustainable tourism
There are many examples of how tourism is putting a strain on the environment, recently highlighted at Northland’s Mermaid Pools.
Over the Christmas period last year, hundreds of people packed the pools each day. Its popularity led to urine, sunblock, and even sanitary pads being found in the pool, which severely affected its delicate ecosystem.
The local tribe placed a hui, or temporary ban, on the pools to allow them to regenerate.
They are likely to reopen, but the question about sustainable tourism remains: how do you stop the same thing happening over the next busy summer?
New Zealand faces many similar challenges: the Mackenzie Country is straining with more than a million tourists each year flocking to the glacial lakes, and the natural hot spring at Rotorua’s Kerosene Creek is often polluted with rubbish. Even New Zealand’s most photographed tree, known as That Wa¯ naka Tree, has been climbed on by tourists, with some warning it may die if that continues.
Our flightless hero
Coming across a wild kiwi in broad daylight (and watching it ferret for worms around my shoes) is one of my best travel memories.
We were on Stewart Island, home to just 450 people and between 15,000 and 20,000 kiwi. Locals told me of regularly seeing them in their front yard, and one fisherman even recalled feeding one fish and chips on the beach. But I never dreamed of having my own encounter.
The threat level of kiwi ranges from critically endangered to vulnerable – depending on the subspecies – and if you want to see one in the wild, Stewart Island is your best bet.
Ulva Island, a 10-minute ferry trip from the mainland, is a predator-free sanctuary where kiwi are often spotted. It’s where we came across our little flightless friend.
Alternatively, Stewart Island Experience also offers a Wild Kiwi Encounter. You’ll travel on a ferry to a remote beach late at night and visit a spot where kiwi regularly feed. What can we do? I believe we all need to have a better appreciation of own backyard, and the best way to gain that is visiting these fragile areas first-hand.
Hopefully, that will lead to a growing consensus that more needs to be done to protect these treasures for future generations.