Sanctuary a special taonga
Pu¯ kaha National Wildlife Centre is a special place that belongs to all of us, a slice of New Zealand where our precious flora and fauna is protected, writes
Our guide blows her ko¯ auau (flute), the haunting note raising the hairs on the back of our necks in the darkness. And then we see him. At first, he is just a blur in the simulated nighttime forest, probing the leaf litter for worms and insects. But he comes closer and closer, until we can make out the distinctive shape of the bird that is so instantly recognisable, despite few of us having had the privilege of seeing one in real life.
We are in the Kiwi House at Pu¯ kaha National Wildlife Centre, a sanctuary 30 kilometres north of Masterton.
The centre is perhaps best known as the birthplace of the first white kiwi to be hatched in captivity, Manukura, who sadly died in December 2020.
Manukura is survived by her younger brother Mapuna, another brown kiwi with the same rare genetic trait that results in snow-white feathers.
The kiwi we spot during our visit, Kaewa and Tia, are Mapuna’s children. Look closely, and you can see the latter has inherited white eyebrows from her papa.
But Manukura and her wha¯ nau aren’t the only taonga to be found at Pu¯ kaha, the whole place is a treasure. And it is a place that every New Zealander should visit, as it was gifted to us.
Pu¯ kaha is as rich in history as it is wildlife. The 942-hectare reserve is the last significant remnant of what was once a great forest known to local Ma¯ ori as Te Tapere nui o Whatonga, which stretched from the mountains north of Dannevirke, across to the Ruahine Range, and down just north of Masterton.
European settlers dubbed the forest Seventy Mile Bush and, in the 1870s, Scandinavians were brought over to cut down the trees and clear the land.
Most of the forest was destroyed, except for the Pu¯ kaha block, also known as Mt Bruce, which the Crown decided to protect as a reserve. A 55ha area was set aside as a native bird reserve and, in 1962, a captive breeding centre was established, building on the work of local farmer Elwyn Welch, who famously trained his bantam hens to sit on takahe¯ eggs.
In 2016, the Crown returned the 942ha of the whenua (land) to the Rangita¯ ne iwi, in what was the second-largest Treaty of Waitangi settlement, in terms of the geographic area.
But in what Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern described as an ‘‘extraordinary act of generosity’’, the iwi decided to give Pu¯ kaha back to the people of Aotearoa. The gifting ceremony was held on May 1, last year, which also marked 10 years since the birth of Manukura.
Rangita¯ ne remains heavily involved in Pu¯ kaha, and one way you can learn more about the tangata whenua (people of the land) is by taking a Te Hı¯koi o Pu¯ kaha tour, led by a local guide.
Our guide, Everlyne Chase, is of Tu¯ hoe and Nga¯ ti Porou descent, but she was born in nearby Pahiatua and married into Rangita¯ ne.
Over the two-and-a-half hour tour, she has us captivated as she takes us through the forest, pointing out berries that were once used as ink for moko kauae (lower chin tattoo), and greeting her ‘‘koro’’, a more than 300-year-old rata with a human-sized hollow that Ma¯ ori ancestors would have used for shelter.
In the kiwi house, Everlyne shares a ko¯ rero (story) passed down through generations about how when Ta¯ ne Mahuta, god of the forest, asked all the birds for help to protect the trees from the insects, only the selfless kiwi agreed to lose its wings and give up the sun-soaked treetops for a life on the cold, dark forest floor. The kiwi house is also where we meet Rewa and Taku, a breeding pair of tuatara that have been at Pu¯ kaha since 1986 and are thought to be up to 80 years old.
Another highlight is getting to feed the giant longfin eels, which gather at our feet like playful dogs to receive spoonfuls of steak. We will get to enjoy some kai of our own at the end of the tour – kawakawa tea and delicious Ma¯ ori fry bread.
But before we do, there is one more important resident to meet. We pause beside an aviary as Everlyne brings her ko¯ auau to her lips again, and is answered by the sound ‘‘ko¯ kako, ko¯ kako’’.
This is Kahurangi, the only captive ko¯ kako in New Zealand. She was rescued as a chick by a DOC ranger, and brought to Pu¯ kaha in 2005, and as she spent so much time with humans, she couldn’t be released back into the wild.
She also never properly learned her natural song, instead saying the name of her species – or apparently even wolf-whistling at male visitors.
Though entertaining, there is a poignant note to her unique song. Everlyne tells us about a kuia (female elder) who cried when she heard Kahurangi, as she was so sad to hear the impact of humans on the bird’s language.
The kuia had experienced her own struggles in finding her voice, as she was of a generation punished for speaking Ma¯ ori at school, but discouraged from speaking English at home.
It was a ko¯ rero that emphasised just how much we are at risk of losing in Aotearoa.
But at places such as Pu¯ kaha, we can feel assured that nature and culture are being protected for generations to come.