The drive to Invercargill, the southermost city on the mainland, was boring, and so was the city. Not bad, just nondescript. Home to a bakery that fed us some amazing pies though. We ended up at Queen’s Park, on the outskirts of Invercargill, and ended up finding a sprawling greenhouse and aviary complex in the middle. Walking the gardens, I was actually kind of disappointed at how many of the plants I recognized from working in landscaping. I didn’t want to see hostas and lilies, I wanted new and different Kiwi plants. Can’t always get what you want I guess. The aviary was also quite decent, and proved to be a great introduction to our chosen Stewart Island activity.

Stewart Island is a small, but still decently sized (the circumference track is 25 days long or something), island that lies a 2 hour ferry ride south of the south island. The separation from the rest of New Zealand has meant that many of its ecological communities are still intact, though ship-borne pests like rats have still found their way there. The ferry ride was choppy but otherwise uneventful except for an albatross sighting. I had forgotten just how huge the wings are on one of those things… We arrived rather late on May 6, checked into the hostel where we would be sleeping in a bed that night (it was a nice treat), and then headed to the one place that was open Wednesday night.

The South Sea Hotel is actually the only place open any night in the winter off-season, and was therefore predictably packed with locals as well as tourists. The menu made it clear we were in a fishing town, and I caved into the seafoody goodness. A bowl of chowder and fish and chips – I don’t know which of the two was better, but it was the best food I had in New Zealand. Ashley’s surf and turf pasta was also top notch, and the bill came to less than 30 bucks each for soup, main, and beer.

The main Stewart Island event was a birding trip to tiny Ulva Island, a five minute water taxi away. Our captain had sat next to us at the hotel the night before – Stewart Island is that kind of place. Not knowing much about local birds, we got a guide for the 4 hour excursion. It ended up being one of the best investments I have ever made. Our guide was both supremely knowledgeable and very passionate about the ecology of Ulva Island, and really passed his enthusiasm for birding on to me. He explained that 5 years ago Ulva Island wasn’t the rat- and possum-free bird “paradise” that it is today. It took two years of rigorous trapping and monitoring to remove the introduced egg predators, and afterwards the reintroduction of extirpated native birds began.

It was amazing to hear about the huge effort being put into recreating this tiny bit of what NZ used to be 100 or so years ago. Hundreds of rat traps – one every 5 meters in a grid covering the island – are still checked by volunteers (including our guide) weekly to ensure no new rats have invaded. (One or two a year generally are caught, stowaways on passing ships.) The walking paths are covered in gravel to prevent erosion, and every piece of it gets washed in a converted cement mixer to remove foreign seeds or insects before it is shipped to the island. The birds are also closely watched – most are banded to give some indication of the health of the various populations. The few species that are strong enough fliers to make it the couple hundred meters to Stewart Island proper (remember these birds evolved with no predators around – they are horrible fliers) are even taught as juveniles to avoid rats and possums using decoys and the warning calls of “educated” birds. Our guide recognized several birds on the walk that he had himself banded and taught in previous years.

The best part of the story is that the hard work is paying off. We saw many species of birds that are unheard of on the mainland. One particular species, the saddleback, had its numbers reduced to something like 40 birds on Stewart Island five years ago. Ulva Island is now home to around 300 of them, and a week ago there were 350 – 50 of them were caught and transferred to newly-created refuge on the mainland. I realize in hindsight how happy I am to pay to see protected wildlife. Hopefully the influx of tourists willing to pay to see protected wilderness will help convince locals that conservation can be profitable. I felt the same way after seeing the Irrawaddy dolphins in Laos – buying a beer and hiring a boat just gave a bunch of locals a vested interest in keeping the dolphins around. I wish I could think of a Canadian example…