21 December 2017 - Parua Bay, Whangarei Harbour, Northland

I remember seven or so years ago my younger son asking what I would do with myself now I was divesting myself of my business and occupation in order to retire. I guess that after having had a frantically busy mother all his life, sometimes, or even too often, to the detriment of family time, he could not imagine me being anything else. Of course the intervening years have been filled in the main with travel, and while overseas, every minute of every day, doing so. I bring this all up because I have to confess that most of our days since returning from the United Kingdom at the end of November have been all too idle. I have consumed dozens of books from the library and book swapping spots, done more cooking than the last six years combined and little else. How sad is that!?

But there have been some little excursions and it is that this blog is particularly reserved for, not my self-pity and reports of lazy idleness. But even before we popped away from Whangarei, we did spend one delightful afternoon doing what many grandparents do; attending a grandchild’s cultural performance. Our youngest, who is not yet six, takes dance classes and the dance school puts on an annual recital at year end, a collection of numbers by the students, 99.9% of them female aged from three to fifty three at least. While the choreography and costume were without fault, the execution of the routines by the tiny tots was a scene of pure comedy. To see a clutch of tinies in exquisite tutus and headwear, wander upon the stage of Whangarei’s Bougainville Theatre, pause, look lost, then be rescued by black clad “invisible” prompts, was absolutely hilarious. But I can report that our own little Aurelia performed well, without too much hesitation and without requiring rescue.

Days later we left Whangarei once more and headed to Auckland, or Henderson more specifically, to deliver our unimaginative Christmas presents to our youngest and his family. He and his partner were doing their best to make the most of a childless weekend, their two sons having been taken down to Nelson by their wonderful other-grandmother  for a brief break in the sunshine and seaside. The first childless and otherwise very private day was interrupted by the other-grandfather who is also a wonderfully supportive figure in their life, but could have been more absent this particular weekend.  And then there was us, who did arrive with notice duly given, to be dined and entertained. We did not stay too long but my heart went out to this couple, who, with primary age children and one live-in parent, have so little private space.

And on the subject of Christmas presents and the celebration itself, I will repeat what I have surely conveyed before. Neither my husband nor I enjoy “celebrating” this highly commercialised religious festival, nor the anxiety caused by the build up of The Day which heralds the close down of all commercial and practical life for three weeks down here at the bottom of the Pacific. The idea of gifting for all at once is not only financially challenging to most, but for me an exercise in total confusion. I wandered about the stores some days before the aforementioned trip trying to imagine what “normal” little girls liked, having never been a fluffy dizzy frilly girly child myself, nor mother to the same; it was sons I spent my parenting days raising, and boys are very different to girls no matter what these “gender-equal” advocates may say.

We spent a night at the NZMCA Park at Tui Glen, that wonderful little hideaway in very urban Henderson. There is a fabulous playground in the public section of the park, which is well used by locals at the weekend. As we wandered through the park threading our way past dozens of immigrant families, we spied one in particular who had come with two large barbeque arrangements and great big pots for the traditional “boil-ups”. Chris remarked that there seemed to be no lack of food, a comment overheard and met with great mirth from the large Polynesian men sitting around waiting for the feast.

The Westfield Mall in Henderson was full of Christmas shoppers and the expected queue of parents waiting with their little treasures to be photographed on Santa’s knee; one does wonder why parents will still insist that their children be caressed by a strange man in a gaudy costume, despite the horror stories that come out these days via media and the law courts.

Did I hear you utter – “Christmas Grinch?” Be honest, how many folk really really embrace  Christmas?

Our other nights were spent down in South Auckland staying at the Ardmore NZMCA Park which we found less crowded than normal. From here we visited Armstrong Locksmiths up in Otahuhu where we were finally able to have spare keys cut for our toilet hatch, a task better appreciated by those who have experienced the loss than trying to imagine the situation.

 From here we took the opportunity to revisit the Onehunga foreshore at Mangere Bridge, a beautiful and underrated spot in Auckland. Certainly Mangere Bridge has only been more attractive since the sewerage works upwind were decommissioned; such stench hardly makes for sought after real estate.

We walked along the winding pathway that extends from Ambury Farm Park to the old Mangere Bridge and on up the northern shore of the estuary, a cycle trail we have completed in the past. The bird life is wonderful along this shore, particularly here along the Kiwi Esplanade.

Views along the Mangere foreshore

The landscape here has been shaped largely by Mangere Mountain, a volcano which erupted some 30,000 years ago. The mountain is one of the largest and best preserved of Auckland’s fifty three cones and craters. All of these volcanoes are the product of hot rock rising from one hundred kilometres below the city. That source is still active and another volcano is sure to erupt in Auckland area in the future, truly a scary thought.

The lava spewed out during the eruption, is solidified and exposed here on Kiwi Esplanade, making a strange surface known as “pahoehoe”, a smooth, billowy or ropey surface formed as the lava chilled. It develops where very fluid lava has continued to flow beneath a flexible crust, which twists and wrinkles into ridged shapes.

The Manukau Harbour and Mangere foreshore provides habitat for important international and national migratory wading birds, as well as other local birdlife. The harbour supports more than 20% of New Zealand’s total wading bird population. Each summer between September and march approximately 7,500 Bar-tailed Godwits and 7,000 Red (lesser) Knots travel  12,000 kilometres from northern hemisphere to take advantage of the Manukau Harbour’s extensive  feeding grounds. These birds nest in the tundra regions of Siberia and Alaska, but are driven south at the approach of winter as their habitats begin to freeze. The waders arrive in their thousands to spend summer feeding on the mudflats of the Manukau Harbour. The harbour provides a rich source of food including marine molluscs, worms and other invertebrates.

The South Island Pied Oystercatchers nest only in the South Island, but after nesting, migrate to the harbour here and other North Island coastal areas during the winter. Non-breeding birds remain in the North Island throughout the year, while breeding adult birds return to the South Island nesting sites. At high tide thousands of Oyster catchers gather on the grassy reserve here beside the shore, a site that never fails to impress us.

As I said this is an underrated place; Mangere does not generally inspire excitement amongst most of the Pakeha population of Auckland and further afield.

 When we did eventually leave South Auckland to head north once more, we were met with traffic signs that suggested frustratingly lengthy travel times, so we came north up the Western Ring Road, joining the North-eastern Motorway via the still relatively new Waterview Tunnel. I am not sure how much longer this route is, but the fact that there is uninterrupted traffic flow and thus less stress, suggests this is a better route north in such circumstances.

That day we lunched at the Rosedale Park, a wonderful sports park near Albany where we have parked up to break our journey on many an occasion. This is every bit as convenient as the sports park we had pulled into at Warkworth on the way south. Both venues are locked up at night with notice of expensive release fees, and I do wonder whether one could dare to overnight, locked in, and stay free? This I do not know and am not personally willing to try out, or at least just yet.

The next excitement was a day on Tiritiri Matangi, one of the islands in the Hauraki Gulf but this one rather more special than most. The Gulf covers an area of 4,000 square kilometres east of Auckland,  and is part of the Hauraki Gulf Marine Park, which itself covers an area of more than 1.2 million hectares. There are more than fifty islands within the Gulf, many of which are public conservation lands managed by the Department of Conservation.

The more well-known islands are Waiheke which is celebrated for its vineyards and restaurants, and as a destination for Gold Card holders who take advantage of free ferry rides much to the consternation of less well-heeled consumers,  Rangitoto with its recently formed volcanic cone, and Ponui Island once a refuge for Salvation Army rehabilitating drunks. 

The 360 Discovery Cat at the Tiritiri wharf

Tiritiri Matangi lies 3.4 kilometres east of the Whangaparoa Peninsula and 30 kilometres north east of Auckland, covering just 220 hectares.  It is an open wildlife sanctuary, a scientific reserve and one of New Zealand’s most important and exciting conservation projects, managed by the Department of Conservation in conjunction with the community group Supporters of Tiritiri Matangi.

The island is best noted for its birdlife, including takahe, North Island kokako and the spotted kiwi. It attracts between 30,000 and 32,000 visitors a year, the maximum allowed by the Auckland Conservation Management Strategy.

Originally the island was covered by a mixed pohutukawa forest with kohekohe and taraire dominant in sheltered valleys, however centuries of Maori occupation and subsequent European farming saw the majority of the island converted to rolling grassland with only pockets of forest remaining.

Looking back toward the wharf

Maori occupation was fraught with conflict as with most in this country; there is not, nor has ever been, harmonious tribal cohabitation. Their war-like nature, particularly before the European brought them some semblance of brotherly love cloaked in Christianity, still makes for squabbling as attempts are made to settle treaty claims.

By the time Europeans eyed up the island, physical occupation had long gone, although memories are long and never entirely accurate or harmonious. In 1841 Ngati Paoa, rightly or wrongly, sold the land to the Crown as part of the Mahurangi Block, and farming, as we understand the term, began. 

In 1864 a lighthouse was constructed at the southern end of the island and remains in operation today albeit now automated. In 1956, a xenon light was fitted to the lighthouse, creating the most powerful light-beam achieved at the time by any New Zealand lighthouse. The last lighthouse keeper arrived with his family in 1980 and after the light was automated a few years later, he remained on managing the restoration programme and was DOC Ranger on the island right through to 2006.

In the 1970s a chap from the Wildlife Service was given permission to release kakariki, or red-crowned parakeets, onto the island and that release caught the attention of a junior lecturer in zoolology at Auckland University. It was this John Craig together with Neil Mitchell, and a few other hangers-on who instigated the re planting of the island. This also required the eradication of the predators who had made their way to the island over the years and managed to further destroy the native vegetation and the birdlife; the kiore rat being the first and foremost criminal.

Between 1984 and 1994 250,000 native trees and shrubs of over thirty different species were planted. The rats were killed with aerial drops of poisoned bait which had the side effect of  decimating 90% of the pukeko population. While I might say these comical birds are a hardy lot and surely able to regain their numbers in next to no time, this should not negate the tragic lossat the time.

The earnest Gerhard and his eager pupils

Since that initial conservational and reinstatement of the island, eleven native species have been relocated to the island as part of an on-going restoration project. Today the bush is filled with the sound or evidence of kakariki, the North Island saddleback aka tieke, the whitehead aka popokotea, the stitchbird aka hihi, the North Island kokako, the spotted kiwi, the brown duck aka pateke, the rifleman, North Island tomtit and the fernbird, the last five which we failed to see on our visit. There are apparently eighty seven species on or about the island and we saw but a portion of these, but were still duly impressed.

We caught the bright yellow trimaran from Gulf Harbour which ploughed its way through the rough seas for just half an hour to the island and then took advantage of a guided walk for an additional $10 each around the island to learn much about the birds, plant and insect life that is unique to this sanctuary.  Our guide is one of the many volunteers from the mainland who offer their time, expertise and passion for the island to visitors these volunteers making up the twenty or less who are offered free travel by Fullers to facilitate this service.

Tiritiri  Matangi's lighthouse

Most of our fellow tourists were from overseas, and drank in the imparted knowledge. But we did too, and learned much about the birds we consider ourselves all too familiar with; the tui, kingfisher, bellbirds. We sampled native celery, our local version of samphire and kawakawa peppers, all adding to further understanding of our own environment.

Heading back toward the wharf

The excellent weather we have enjoyed since our return to New Zealand had changed since making our booking but then booking ahead is always fraught with such danger. I had woken several times through the preceding night and heard the showers pass over. Then just before the alarm went off at 7 am, a wild storm passed over suggesting a disastrous day. As it happened the winds did not abate which made for a less than pleasant sailing, but the rain stayed away and the day was otherwise perfect. I did however think of my sister who makes regular sorties out into the Gulf in all weathers; she and her husband have a rather grand launch moored in the Marina and have a greater appreciation of all-weather boating than I do.

We snuck away from the northern border of Auckland City after an early rising, not willing to subject ourselves to the reported streams of north bound holiday makers. As it happened the traffic seemed relatively normal, and we were back in Whangarei soon after 10 am. After attending  to half a dozen errands, such as gas refills, gathering of our mail, and attending to a week’s worth of laundry, we set up camp back out here on Jumbo expecting to remain for the next week or so. That roof still needs painting and my husband’s procrastination must have a limit. In the meantime I have received communication from my sister regarding Christmas drinks at our parents’ tomorrow night. If it comes off, it will be the only “pre-Christmas function” we will have had to deal with; a very different cup of tea from the working years!