Hermits of the Hauraki
The DOC rangers of the gulf islands have the million-dollar views without the stresses of city life,
Out here I don’t need to worry about what the latest trend is or any of that. All I have to worry about is when I need to bottle my beers. Or where to fish. Charlie Barnett
Charlie Barnett is unsure if he’ll ever be lured back to mainland life. The 22-year-old says he’s unfazed by the lack of internet and TV and doesn’t miss shopping or bars and nightclubs.
He’s just landed what he says is his dream job, with his own house on Motutapu Island, next to Rangitoto Island, about 30 minutes from downtown Auckland. Barnett is the island’s recreation ranger working for the Department of Conservation
He’s one of a handful of residents permanently basking in the idyllic islands dotted through the Hauraki Gulf.
It’s an interesting vantage point to monitor the rising sea levels and the impact of climate change, which a government study this week found was affecting coastal areas and threatening marine and land-based creatures.
The report, from the Ministry for the Environment and Statistics New Zealand, found the ocean was warming, which impacted ‘‘not only on fish but other wildlife and our own coastal communities’’.
Being so close to nature and helping to protect it was part of the attraction for Barnett. ‘‘Once you’ve experienced it, there’s nothing like being on an island,’’ he says. ‘‘You feel so far away from it all. It’s a sense of just peace and relaxation. Out here I don’t need to worry about what the latest trend is or any of that. All I have to worry about is when I need to bottle my beers. Or where to fish.’’
With previous placements on four other islands, including stints of four months at a time at Raoul Island (in the Kermadecs, halfway between New Zealand and Tonga), he’s getting used to the separation and reckons he’s found his niche.
‘‘I don’t miss it at all,’’ he says, pointing toward Auckland. ‘‘I’ve got my million-dollar view.’’
As well as the stunning surrounds of beaches and forests, there are kiwi and Takahe and other rare bird species for company.
The downside, Barnett says, is not being able to buy things whenever you want. But the payoff is the lifestyle shift.
He and his DOC colleagues have swapped the rat race for rat traps — a big part of their job is catching pesky invaders that threaten Motutapu’s pest-free status.
The island’s chief pest stalker is biosecurity ranger John Neilsen, who has been living there since 2009.
He and his rodent-hunting dogs Poly, Toa and Pearl roam Motutapu and Rangitoto looking for scurrying creatures as well as tiny insects that could cause a huge impact on the eco-system.
His current focus is on a 6.1 hectare section he’s narrowed down in a search for unwelcome ants.
‘‘We fear the day we get an Argentine ant on the island,’’ he says of the creature that’s been described as one of the most damaging of all invasive pest species.
If it sounds like mission impossible to find an ant crawling somewhere on an island the size of more than six rugby fields, that’s because it is.
Neilsen says there will inevitably be breaches of the pest-free fortress; it’s more a matter of swiftly eliminating them once they’re found.
‘‘I guess I’m the ambulance at the bottom of the cliff,’’ he says. ‘‘No matter how hard we work, there’s something that’s going to get through the traps.’’
Already he’s hauled up a seafaring stoat that came ashore in 2014. When he ran a DNA test he found the stoat’s origins traced back to West Auckland: ‘‘It must have island-hopped and swam at least 3km.’’
Neilsen, 51, has spent his whole adult life working in conservation and says he couldn’t imagine leaving the island, unless it was for a rural property equally remote.
Once a fortnight he gets his fill of life at home, heading back to catch up with his partner in the Waikato town of Glen Massey.
But invariably he’s back, more motivated than ever and eager to keep training his dogs, who he spends most nights and days off taking through specialist training courses.
‘‘After work I will be doing something that’s something to do with what I do during the day. Whether that’s modifying traps or taking images of skinks.
‘‘It’s the best job in the world at the moment, although there’s always something better that comes along. It’s a great lifestyle, and to be able to use dogs is wonderful.’’
Further along the bay, Michael Jenkins is surveying the freshly mown lawn of an old navy parade ground. He’s done it himself and is pleased with the way it’s looking.
Jenkins has a hand in everything on Motuihe Island because he’s the only person there.
His job description lists him as the ‘‘sole ranger’’ of the 180 hectare island between Motutapu and Waiheke islands, where he is set up in a three-bedroom house and given the broad instructions of looking after maintenance of the island.
‘‘You wind up wearing a lot of hats — the plumber, the electrician, the septic tank specialist; a whole range of different things. You also end up being the policeman, fireman and ambulance out here.’’
Plonked on the island for at least two weeks at a time, Jenkins has no boat to get anywhere but says he’s getting used to the isolation.
‘‘There’s always entertainment for me out here,’’ he says.
‘‘I still pinch myself every couple of days, it’s a dream for me. There’s a peace and quiet and just a satisfaction you get from being self-sufficient. Food never tastes better than what you get and grow yourself, I firmly believe that. The flipside I guess is the convenience; you can’t decide to head down to the takeaway.’’
While he’s by himself, there are campers, day-trippers and school groups that pop in pretty often, as well as restoration volunteers who come out to plant trees.
He keeps the place looking tidy for visitors and monitors the environment to keep it safe for spotted kiwi, saddlebacks, bellbirds, tuatara and others.
‘‘The other adjustment out here is that you’re surrounded by your job. I think a lot of rural New Zealanders would be able to relate to that. Sometimes it can be a little tricky to just stop working and switch off, but that’s where fishing’s quite good for me ’cause I’m looking out at sea, not at my work.’’
He’s only been there two months but will be on a three-year placement, which can be renewed for however long he’s enjoying the role.
With plenty of scope to fish and explore the island, he says he’s just getting started, and with the Sky Tower visible in the distance it’s a reminder of not only what he’s missing but what he came to avoid.
‘‘I can see the cars lined up on Tamaki Drive and I have a bit of a giggle. The only peak hour you get here is a duck or two in the way.’’