Source: NZ Department of Conservation
Ranger Project Lead Iain Graham describes the moments leading to the monumental rediscovery of kiwi pukupuku in the West Coast wilderness.
Kiwi pukupuku found only in predator free sanctuaries?
Up until now, we believed kiwi pukupuku/little spotted kiwi had gone extinct from mainland New Zealand. Our smallest kiwi is particularly vulnerable to introduced predators, and the last known sighting of a kiwi pukupuku on the mainland was in 1978. In the years since, despite targeted searching, we haven’t found any others.
We also thought all remaining kiwi pukupuku descended from five transferred to Kapiti Island from South Westland in 1912. The descendants of these birds now spread across several predator-free islands and sanctuaries.
Then, back in April, I received an email from a hunter we contracted for tahr control in the Adams Wilderness Area on the West Coast. The email included a short, blurry video of a kiwi looking for its next meal in a bed of fallen Dracophyllum leaves.
That video changed everything.
Finding a kiwi
A weather window opened for us in early May, and kiwi conservation dog Brew and I packed our bags for a week in the scrub to see if we could track down this mystery bird. Brew isn’t great at packing though, so I helped her out.
Brew is kiwi certified under DOC’s Air New Zealand-supported Conservation Dogs Programme, so she has a highly qualified nose for sniffing out our national bird. It’s rough country, and my job was trying to keep up with Brew through all the thick alpine scrub we were contending with. While Brew located kiwi scat (poo!), I was listening out. In the early hours, I heard a pair of kiwi duetting.
Oh, I thought, there’s two of them!
What followed was two days of increasing frustration as Brew and I followed the calls, only to find our progress constantly blocked by geographic features. On day three, Brew dragged me up a spur near where we had marked the calls, and locked on a small hole in the side of a bank. This was the sign I had been waiting for.
Brew looked on expectantly as I attempted to retrieve the kiwi, only to discover it must have snuck out another entrance. After Brew stared judgingly into my soul, radiating ‘I did my part’ energy, she huffed, put her nose down, and took off down the hill again.
Plan B, stakeout.
It was time for a kiwi stakeout. This sounds more fun than it is; we patiently sit outside a burrow entrance and wait for the bird to exit (in this case after blocking the other exit). There’s no noise and no movement, so it becomes a true battle of patience. These stakeouts can end in minutes or hours, and with either success or failure.
I found a comfortable position in front of the burrow, wearing every layer of clothes I had with me, and sat there for 6 hours. Then, hearing a male calling not far down the hill, I realised he had somehow beat me at the patience game. Alright, I thought. No luck tonight, but tomorrow is another day.
Tomorrow was also the last chance to find these birds before we flew out. Unfortunately, with the day came the rain. Brew and I were cooped up in our tent while the rain passed – as heavy rain prevents handling kiwi.
The final chance
The rain stopped at about 4pm. This would be our last chance to get hands on a bird not seen in the area in half a century, so luckily there was no pressure. That night we headed to the same area, this time deciding not to rely on a kiwi being in the burrow.
Suddenly, a call came from above me, less than 10 metres away. This time it was the female and, instinct kicking in, my light came on and I darted up the hill towards her. She was still calling as I pushed through some flax and caught her in my torch beam. She clearly wasn’t expecting my kind of company; she stopped calling and hesitated, just long enough for me to dive towards her and get a hand around her ankles. Facedown on the damp forest floor, I finally exhaled.
Gotcha!
After all that, she sat quietly in my lap as I put a transmitter onto her, collected some pin feathers for DNA analysis, took some morphometric measurements, and snapped a couple of photos. She looked to be an old battler; right eye missing, left eye clouded by a cataract, and missing the nail from her middle toe. Otherwise, she seemed to be in good condition and, as I released her, she sauntered away into the darkness, seemingly unfazed by her close encounter with me.
It’s a kiwi pukupuku!
We know kiwi pukupuku can interbreed with other species, but mixed genetics wouldn’t preserve the unique species history and adaptation. So we were really hoping this girl was a real, purebred kiwi pukupuku. It took a little while for the genetic analysis to come through, and felt like much longer. But when the results came in, the team was euphoric. Clean match. For the first time in nearly 50 years, we’d located a wild, pure kiwi pukupuku on the New Zealand mainland.
Questions and the future
The find is just the beginning, and now the real work begins. We’re still gathering information, and the questions keep mounting. How many are there? How have they survived? What does this mean for the future of kiwi pukupuku?
Regardless, we’re thrilled to be working with Kāti Māhaki on future protection and management of these precious birds.
