Hunting for Kiwis

We awake to the sound of heavy rain - so disappointing as we’d hoped to stop along the Milford Road to see the views we’d missed in Thursday’s downpours. 

Today we leave Fiordland to drive south for Stewart Island, planning a couple of short walks along our route - but of course, the weather us against us. We have coffee in Te Anau, full of people at a loss with what to do in such inclement weather, then continue on our route. We’re flying from Invercargill at 4.00 - checking in by 3.30 - and should have ample time to spare. 

We’ve opted for the Southern Scenic Highway - though nothing’s scenic in this rain and soon precipitation is so heavy, we can hardly see out of the windscreen. Worse than this, there’s so much water on the road that G can sense the wheels slipping as we climb a hill, and in the straight he’s constantly aware of aquaplaning.  Things get so bad that he feels he’ll have to stop - a first for him. We begin to wonder whether we’ll ever get to Invercargill. 

Then I receive a call from Invercargill - I instantly presume the plane won’t run due to the extreme weather, but in fact it’s the company we’ve booked tomorrow’s birding cruise with over on the island - and they’re calling to tell me they won’t run it due to the high winds that are forecast. Of course there’ll be a refund, but is there any point in going to Stewart Island if the weather’s so bad we can’t do anything. What are the alternatives - could we stay in Invercargill? I’m frantically googling availability as my phone slips in and out of signal and G continues his battle with the road conditions. 

We finally get to the airport with some 15 minutes to spare, check to see whether our flight is operating, find it is, check in, and hope for the best. It’s the usual joy of small plane travel; clamber in, have the most cursory safety briefing and take off. By now visibility’s quite good, and from this low altitude, there are find views as we come into the island, landing in east is little more than a field. From here we’re whisked away in the airlines minibus into Oban then taken to our accommodation - Kaka Retreat. And not only has it stopped raining, there’s actually some watery sunshine! After the last few hours, it’s hard to believe we’re actually here! 

Time to find some food - and there are only two options: Kai Kart fish and chips, and The South Sea Hotel. The latter is fully booked, so we have a delicious fish and chip supper from the once mobile Kai Kart, eating on a picnic bench outside. Thankfully, we decide one portion of blue cod and chips will be sufficient - but don’t realise that a portion of chips is enough to feed a family of six…. 

I’ve booked a kiwi trip that leaves at 8 o’clock - one that takes us to the kiwi walk by boat. This turns out to be an excellent decision, as in cruising the bay and islands in the evening sun, it does much to salve the disappointment of out cancelled trip tomorrow. To be honest, I’m struggling physically, a flare up causing quite a bit of pain, but out on deck with various opportunities for wildlife viewing, I’m inevitably distracted. 

First there’s a raft of sooty shearwaters, drifting together in a mass which disintegrates as we approach. Then there’s a hunt for the endangered yellow eyed penguin - we spot two, separately clambering over a bolder-strewn beach. There are fur seals and shags and a variety of seabirds - and best of all, a Mollymawk (white capped or black-browed - I’m not sure which) regally swoops down and lands close by our boat. I was so looking forward to the pelagic section of to tomorrow’s cancelled cruise - but this goes a little way to compensating. Unfortunately, I miss the landing and that amazing wing span, and I just hope she’ll take off again so I can capture this, but no, she just sits there, seemingly frowning, waiting for us to move on.  Still, I’m so happy to have seen this gorgeous bird. 

As the sun is setting we move towards the highlight of the evening - the search for kiwis. The national bird has suffered hugely from predation, and efforts to protest them are considerable. Flightless, they are clearly vulnerable, and few chicks reach maturity. Islands have greater opportunities to eradicate predators, but even here, there is an ongoing programme to protect. The species here is the largest, but still difficult to see due to their habitat and nocturnal lifestyle, so no kiwi walk can guarantee a sighting. 

By now it’s 10 pm and we’re warned we must be prepared to walk for two hours through forest and beach. I’m so worried I’m not up to this tonight that I almost stay behind, but the lovely guides assure me I’ll be fine, and arrange that if I can’t continue, Bill - our skipper - will come to meet us and bring me back to the boat. 

We set off through the forest darkness, small torches lighting up our footsteps. We keep closely behind Clare, our guide - who has me close behind her so she’s sure I’m fine. The pace is slow and quite meditative, the sounds of the forest at night all around. Every so often, Clare stops, switches off her torch and turns on her infrared light - our sign to dim our torches. Then she produces a thermal viewer to check further - but only to find nothing and we continue on our way. 

Then suddenly, the infrared picks out a kiwi - it’s incredibly exciting, but having been told to remain silent, gasps of wonder must be internalised. Mesmerised, we watch this funny little creature burrowing about with its long beak until it disappears from sight. We’ve seen a kiwi - such a thrill! 

We walk down to a beach, Clare checking carefully for sea lions which seem to be the most dangerous thing here, and given the all clear, walk along the sand looking unsuccessfully for kiwi tracks, our torchlights attracting a multitude of unwelcome bugs. 

Back to the forest, Clare miraculously manages to find another kiwi for us - we’ve been doubly blessed. But the other group have yet to find one, so we can’t return. By now, I’m really struggling, so the SOS is sent to Bill who meets us then escorts be back, makes tea for both is us, and we sit and chat until the others return some 45 minutes later. And yes, the other group did find a kiwi, so the whole boat is happy! 

Bill sails swiftly for Oban’s Half Moon Bay and at 1.30 am we make our weary way slowly up the hill to Kaka Point where I dose myself with medication, hoping I’ll feel better in the morning. Despite not feeling at my best, I just can’t believe how well today’s turned out! 

Today’s main is of the Mollymawk, with a yellow eyed penguin in extras - and two really poor shots of the kiwis - just for the record! I just hope you can make them out! 

Thanks so much for your lovely comments, stars and hearts for yesterday’s kayak post - you’re very kind.