Round the Bays in the Winter Sun.

The South Coast of Wellington on a fine winter's day

The day dawned crisp and cold, but the sky was bright blue without a cloud in sight. If a cloud had been present, it would have hung decoratively in the sky as there was no wind to speak of to ruffle its edges and send it scudding. Clouds in Wellington normally are sprinters as they get bullied and harrassed by fierce northerlies and freezing southerlies.
I decided it was a day too good to waste and planned to 'Bike the Bays,' a pleasurable cycle around the harbour and south coast which is mainly flat. To finish off I would go up Happy Valley Road which is a long gradual climb, then up Raroa Road which is a stiff steep climb. To complete the circuit from there involved a few rolling hills through the suburbs.

A brisk descent down Ngaio Gorge made me grateful for my winter gloves and arm and leg warmers. I had noted my shoe clips were wearing thin so stopped at a handy cycle shop to have them replaced.  When I first started wearing them I  took a few tumbles as I practised the art of clipping and unclipping but now they are second nature. The bike shop boys always tut tut at the state of my clips and tell me not to walk on them - but how else am I supposed to get into coffee shops?

Once sorted I headed around the waterfront and Oriental Bay. Needing a comfort spot I went into one of the changing sheds frequented by bathers in the summer. To my surprise an elderly lady was in the process of changing after a swim. Air temperature was around ten degrees Celsius and the waters of Wellington Harbour are cold no matter the season.
'Did you have a good swim?' I asked.
'Yes,' she replied standing there in her altogether without a care in the world.
'Do you use a wet suit?' I asked.
'What would you want one of those for?' she replied.
I commented on the fact most people had stopped swimming for the winter, including myself. She commented on how soft people were these days, especially young people. I had to agree with her, and mentally decided to have a winter swim to test my softness out - but with a wet suit. I had swum in summer with a wet suit and a double layer of bathing caps but chose not to mention this!

Back on my bike I continued around the Bays till I reached The Chocolate Fish, a great cafe tucked in a sheltered spot at Shelly Bay. I had a lovely fish chowder while watching children play on the push-alongs, trikes and scooters that are made available to keep them occupied while their parents dine and chat. Today adults were in on the action as much as the kids.

Big kids and little kids enjoying the ride on toys at the Chocolate Fish

Once over the Passa Branda I was exposed to the South Coast and more wild seas. It was chopped up around the airport and once through the tunnel I stopped to watch the surfers trying their luck on big waves that were not holding up too well but giving some excitement. I observed they were all in wet suits and some had neoprene bonnets as well. Thinking of the lady I had recently talked to, I had a chuckle to myself as I watched the cosseted group in front of me.

                            
                                    Surfers togged up in their neoprene at Lyall Bay


The surf was definitely up and gave a great display as I pedalled on my way. White frothy spray climbed into the air as the waves crashed into rocks. Tapu te Ranga the island Island Bay is named after was copping the brunt of it. In its lee a little boat sheltered, reminding me of Rita Angus's well known painting.

Boats, Island Bay.     Rita Angus

Tapu te Ranga protecting Island Bay from the rigours of Cook Strait

Tapu te Ranga has  long history. In ancient times Kupe the great explorer is said to have climbed to the top of the island to spy Te Wheke- o -Muturangi, a giant octopus which he then chased across Cook Strait and finally slaughtered. He had chased it all the way to New Zealand from Hawaiki.

Kupe killing Te Wheke o Muturangi

In the 1820s it became a refuge for the last of the Ngati Ira as Te Atiawa and Ngati Toa came rampaging through having been displaced themselves from Taranaki and Kawhia by more Northern tribes who had obtained the musket causing a huge upset in the balance of power. Very few Ngati Ira remain as a result and Wellington is claimed mainly by Te Atiawa.

I took it slowly up Happy Valley Road, then whizzed down Brooklyn Road - always a pleasure as there is plenty of space and broad sweeping corners. The alternative - Ohiro Road by contrast is steep, winding and narrow, and traffic flows both ways. Actually, there isn't room for flow - cars proceed cautiously and have to manoeuvre around each other as there is little room to pass. Biking up it is a tough grind and biking down is done with caution and  brakes in good condition.

I took my time up Raroa Road, rolled over the rolling hills through Wilton and arrived home in good time having enjoyed the brilliant blue skies of a clear winter's day.

For its Chilly it is on the Desolate Shores

Sensitive, Seldom and Sad are we,
As we wend our way to the sneezing sea,
With our hampers full of thistles and fronds
To plant round the edge of the dab-fish ponds;
Oh, so Sensitive, Seldom and Sad
Oh, so Seldom and Sad.

In the shambling shades of the shelving shore,
We will sing us a song of the Long Before,
And light a red fire and warm our paws
For it's chilly, it is, on the Desolate shores,
For those who are Sensitive, Seldom and Sad,
For those who are Seldom and Sad.

Sensitive, Seldom and Sad we are,
As we wander along through Lands Afar,
To the sneezing sea, where the sea-weeds be,
And the dab-fish ponds that are waiting for we
Who are, Oh, so Sensitive, Seldom and Sad,
Oh, so Seldom and Sad.

 Actually was not that bad at all but I have always loved Mervyn Peake's nonsense poems and as soon as winter arrives in force I always think of this rhyme in particular. 

I did not wend my way to the desolate shore or the sneezing sea as the southerly winds would have frozen me to the core. Instead I went to Zealandia. The shape of the valley protects the visitor from both Southerlies and Northerlies and once in the bush the rain does not seem so fierce either.

The arena.

I went in to do the robin talks. Surprisingly, considering the conditions, I came across a couple of young Italian tourists wandering around to give my spiel to. The robins were 'on song' so to speak and for most of my stops as soon as I set up the arena and rang the chime a robin would appear. Often they turned up before I rang the chime. They watched as I placed the meal worm in the cavity in the log and closed the leather leaf over the top. As I stepped away the robin would rock on up, flick the leaf aside with its beak, peck out the meal worm and gulp it down. The tourists gasped at their cleverness and skill while getting some cool photos. One robin after eating three meal worms cached the fourth then sang its little heart out. Why I am not sure. Maybe because it had a full tummy and a worm cached away for later, or maybe to let the world know what a great hunter and stealer of another robins' caches (mine to be precise) he was. 

Posing for a photo

I had no spectators when I went through the routine with the last robin. I put out the arena and the log, rang the chime, and Mr GM-KR (colour of leg bands) arrived on cue. He ate two meal worms and was in the process of getting number three when two of his neighbours turned up to demand a share. This was a bit rude as they belonged in other territories and one was Mr OG-KM who had already had a decent feed and had cached a meal worm as well. The other was Unbanded who lives nearby. A bit of unseemly violence occurred with plenty of wing flutters between the three so I called it a day and removed the props.

Robin showing his frontal spot -  white alarm feathers just above his beak which he can control.

I am beginning to know the robins quite well and their characters are starting to emerge. It is such a pleasure to work with them and show people how clever they are, and how deft they can be shifting the leaf aside to find the meal worm. They are also feisty and defend their borders and caches fiercely, but are always always on the look out to rob their neighbour of their hidden cache or a bit of land when the opportunity arises.

                                           
                                                Mr Unbanded at Salmond Seat is getting pretty adept at flicking the leather leaf aside to get the worm.

Though they are 'robin like', they are not relate to their Northern Hemisphere namesakes.

On the way back I came across a group of silvereyes feeding on berries of karamu trees. Flitting among them was a little fantail, feeding on insects disturbed by their activity.

Karamu with berries - good food for birds

The Silvereye was first recorded in  New Zealand in 1832.  As an apparently self-introduced bird it is protected as a native New Zealand species. Its Maori name, Tauhou, means "stranger" or , "new arrival".

The fantail or piwakawaka is such a cute little bird. It flits about quite near to humans and always impresses with its aerobatics in the air as it nabs flying insects.

A fantail or piwakawaka close up

Waka Ama

As a way to keep fit during the off season of dragon boating our committee decided to try out waka ama, or paddling in out riggers, a very popular South Pacific sport. Despite the missionaries banning it in the early days (probably because it was too much fun) it has made a come back. The canoes are light and fast with an outrigger for balance. People paddle on both sides, swapping every ten or so strokes when someone yells 'hup'. Different canoe sizes hold different numbers of people.



Wellington holds 'Give it a go' days once a month so six of us chose to head down to harbour  to give waka ama a go. The winds were whipping up the harbour and at first they were not too keen on taking us out. We had some drills on the land to get the gist of the paddling action. There are subtle  differences between dragon boating and waka ama paddling. In waka ama you don't lean out as much, your paddles are more spoon shaped and shorter, and every so often you have to swing your paddle over to the other side, change leg position and start paddling in one smooth action in time with everyone else. They travel fast and can tip easily if you do not keep your ama or outrigger on the water. Dragon boats are more stable but also more cumbersome.



Despite the waves we were keen. We went out in a six seater, with three of us newbies and three experienced paddlers. At first we practised with our tail held in on shore so we could get the hang of things safely. I was second in line and followed the actions of the person in front as best I could. Swapping the paddle to the other side of the boat was tricky but manageable and vaguely in time. Changing leg position at the same time was a no go for a while but it started to come right as I relaxed.

The instructions were mainly in Maori which was really cool. 'Karete' for get ready. I knew that from watching the All Blacks haka. 'Hoea' means to paddle, and 'hoe' is a paddle and I knew those terms from the wonderful traditional paddling song Hoea Ra te Waka Nei that I had learned as a child. I am still waiting my chance to paddle in a waka taua or Maori war canoe, a desire I have had since I first learned that song at school.

If you want to hear the song, click here:
Hoea Ra Te Waka Nei

When we had got the basics we headed out into the waves for a quick paddle out and back. I had to focus hard to keep in time and to change sides at the 'hup'. I watched the person in front and when it came to the turn it was our responsibility to lean out to the ama side and draw water towards us to pull the canoe around as there is no rudder. The last person in the boat uses his paddle to steer as well as paddle, but for a turn the front two paddlers have to draw to bring the canoe around.




We got some steam up coming back and all too soon it was over. We helped dismantle the ama and packed the canoe away.

If the dragon boat committee decides to go ahead with waka ama practice in the future I for one will be really keen.

Killing Fields

Come on in mouse, help yourself  and make my day!

After having checked what pests we have in Zealandia we are now in the process of laying poison to kill them. Mice are all we have found and now we are out to get them.
I volunteered to assist and had a lot to learn. Firstly I had to put my kit together which consisted of quite a few odd bits and pieces which only made sense after enquiring what on earth they were for. After being briefed on safety with regard to the terrain and to handling poison I set out. My first bait line was on the east side of the valley. It took a while to tramp up to the perimeter fence, find my line and start.
It was a beautiful day but damp and slippery underfoot. The transect was steep and after having my feet slide out from under me a few times I decided to use part of my kit to hold me more firmly to the terrain. This was one of the things I asked about. They were  a pair of  bright orange stretchy plastic things with metal chains and hooks attached which turned out to be slip-on crampons and very useful they were.
Every twenty metres or so down my line I came across a bait station. These are of various kinds. Conservation is run on a shoe string in New Zealand and improvising and recycling is the thing. Most of the stations are ice cream containers with a nice little mouse hole cut in the side. These are gradually being replaced with more solid and lasting novacoils or plastic ridged tubes open at both ends with a covered hole at the top.

A piece of novo coil turned into a bait station

There are wooden boxes with ice cream containers inside. The stations are marked with bright flagging and are numbered. The thing is not to miss one as it is always a pain having to retrace your steps. Having helped to cut out and mark the transects previously I had a better idea on how these tracks work and also could make sense of my map which was most useful.

A bait station

I was used to the fact some birds such as kaka are microchipped but this was the first time I had been tagged with a GPS system so someone back at base could track where exactly I was at any time. If I stopped moving they would know I was either skiving, or had crashed off the track somewhere. More importantly it helped them know that their transect lines were covering the area they were supposed to.
Ropes were conveniently placed in very steep places and with that support plus crampons I made my way safely along, stopping to add  bait to the stations every twenty metres or so.
The valley floor has its challenges too - wet ones! A shallow river flows there surrounded in places by wet lands. Though I scanned the territory carefully before placing my feet, a couple of times I sank or splashed in to my boot tops resulting in soggy socks. But the war on mice has to go on and I am a willing if dirty and wet soldier. This once a year concentrated effort knocks the little suckers to minimal numbers and allows the native life to thrive.

The bait stations have intriguing ways to stop those very natives from getting in to to sample the bait. Robins are inquisitive and will hop in a tunnel to see what's there. Fortunately they cannot crouch, only hop, so a horizontally placed piece of plastic card at each end of a tunnel will keep them at bay. The plastic ice cream containers have a hole too small for robins or tuatara to enter.

A little piece of plastic keeps the robins out.

You never know what might be lurking in the bait stations so there is always a little tension when taking off the lid. Today I was confronted by a brown skink, a weta and several black tunnel web spiders. I flicked the weta out of the box and immediately a robin turned up and eyed the potential meal. It hopped around the weta cautiously then decided against it and went off to forage in the leaf litter for smaller prey.

A skink scurrying out of a bait box.

A black tunnel web spider

So, come on mice. A lot of lovely green crunchy pellets have been placed throughout the valley just for you. I have got truly grubby just for you. I kept my nerve steely when confronted with creepy crawlies just for you.
 Eat to your heart's content and make my day!

Wellington - alive and vibrant

Here is a really cool little time lapse video of Wellington at its best:

Wellington - alive and vibrant

And to put things in perspective, here is a link to a more wild turbulent Wellington:

Wellington Airport on a rough day

And just to show how tricky getting in and out of Wellington can be on a really bad day :

Rough Crossing

Rock'n Robins

I am involved in a new endeavour at Zealandia. Our New Zealand robins, or toutouwai, exhibit some pretty amazing behaviour. They are not related to Northern Hemisphere robins though they occupy the same niche. The are more closely related to the little tomtit and are endemic to New Zealand. Though their numbers are declining they are not endangered. They were released into Zealandia in 2001 and were the first release able to fly over the fence if they so desired. They have been a great success and now abound in the Sanctuary. Alas, if they do fly out into the surrounding suburbs their future becomes tenuous as they have little fear of mammals and are easily preyed upon. They nest in forks of trees which also makes their eggs and chicks very vulnerable to possums, rats etc.
They are remarkable in that they indulge in caching behaviour. When full, they hide the prey they cannot eat. Very few Southern hemisphere birds do this, and fewer, if any cache live prey. Toutouwai will catch an insect, stun or kill it, then place it on the top of a branch or in a hidey hole. They have preferred hiding places. Other robins (and maybe other birds) are aware of this and may nick the cache when the original hider is distracted. The cache, being of animal matter will only last a few days before going off so it is only ever a short term food store.
Why they do this is uncertain. Some Northern Hemisphere birds store nuts and seeds for the winter, but our winters are not severe, food is always available and stored insects decay quickly. It maybe because the less time spent on the ground the better as that is where they are in danger of being attacked by a weka or tuatara perhaps.

Studies have been carried out at the University of Victoria over the last few years which have discovered just  how clever our little robins are. They are able to count! They can definitely count up to seven with 70% accuracy and maybe up to twelve. One of the ways they have discovered this is by showing that robins exhibit 'expectation violation' which I think is a wonderful term for something we all experience. If you show them three meal worms then put them in a box with a false bottom so the worms disappear, the robins will be most annoyed and continue to search for the worms that are missing. They saw the worms go in and they expect to find them there and when they don't they become frustrated and show expectation violation.

They also observe other robins caching and are able to remember the spot and go and raid it when the coast is clear.

We have been taught a little routine to show the robin's behaviour. We give a little talk about robins first then move to specific sites in different robin territories. Once there we set up a bright circle of rope - an 'arena' which acts as a visual cue. In the centre of that we put a little log with a cavity drilled in it and a little leather leaf which can be rotated over to cover the hole. Next we ring a bell. Usually a little robin appears promptly looking expectant. We hide the first meal worm in the cavity and cover it with the leaf. The robin has seen us do this and quickly moves the leaf to one side and eats the meal worm. We replace it and the robin will then do one of two things. It will either eat this next worm or hold it crosswise in its bill, stun or kill it, then fly about ten metres away and place the worm in one of its caches.

The rope arena and the log with cavity

Robin arrives on the scene

He comes in for a closer look and I check he is the right bird and not a little territory invader from next door.

A meal worm - yummy food for robins

I place a meal worm in the cavity with the robin watching and put the leather leaf across.

Robin comes in, deftly shifts leaf aside and gets meal worm

Robin with meal worm across its bill, indicating it is ready to fly off and cache its prize in one of its hiding places.

The picnic table robin who is a bit of a ditherer. He takes a while to make up his mind what he is doing.

Running the Orongorongos

Am thinking of adding scarlet laces.

Yesterday dawned as bright and sparkling as my new off road running shoes. I had entered the XTerra trail run being held at the Orongorongos, Rimutaka Forest Park at the CatchPool Entrance.To get there involved a drive over the Wainuiomata Hill. As I wound my way up in the car, it confirmed my opinion that biking over here is not an option for me as there is no separate cycling lane and it would be very difficult once I had stopped to start again and it would be hard to cross over the highway if I wished to head down again before  reaching the top.
Once through Wainuiomata I headed out along the coast road then turned left into the Park.

Many people had already gathered and there was an air of excitement in a chilly sort of way as the sun had yet to penetrate. I had been mulling over whether to do the medium or short course. I chose the short course in the end as it was the first time I had done this sort of run, I had invested in a pair of off road running shoes that were not worn in and basically the medium course seemed a long way.  The runners doing that looked lean and mean. The people doing the long run looked as if  they spent their days loping up and down mountains in a pair of tiny shorts and not much else. So, the short course seemed the sensible option.

I was rather conscious of my new shoes. They glowed an off pinkish red on the top. The soles were Chesdale cheese orange with black spots. There were orange stripes on the side. They shouted 'look at me! We are the new shoes on the block!' in no uncertain terms. They had one advantage. If I got lost in the bush I would just have to lie down and wave my legs in the air. The shoes would shine like beacons to any passing helicopter in the area and I would be saved in no time.

The Orongorongos

 After a briefing which was a basic description of the course and advice to follow the red arrows and blue flagging tape we set off. After some shuffling about as the faster types took off and the slower types started to walk on the first hill, I found myself at a suitable point on the pecking order. Though I have been doing a lot of hill running for pleasure, as soon as it becomes a competition there is pressure to go a little faster. I hoofed it up the first hill or two then settled into a pace slightly faster than I normally do. I had chosen to wear my prescription sunglasses which was a bit dim in more ways then one. As soon as we entered the bush my world did indeed become dim. Then they fogged up with sweat. I kept wiping them on my shirt to try and clear them, which made my view of the track dim, foggy and dirty. As the track was rutted and had bits of tree root poking out of it the need to see where I was going became imperative so I removed my glasses. This gave me a fuzzy view which was the best I was going to get so I had to go with it. The track was narrow and hilly.  A couple places were really steep and the people in front of me slowed to a walk so I was forced to as well. Well - truth be known that's an excuse - my body forced me to walk by informing me it could not run and breathe at the same time going up certain hills. Then the path flattened out once more and I settled into a steady run. As I ran I could hear someone breathing down my neck. I could not find a place for a while to let her pass, but when I did she said 'keep going' so I ran the rest of the way through the forest with the sound heavy breathing down my neck. As we came out to scrub we ran across a bridge which wriggled and tossed as we passed making me gasp with surprise. I heard others behind me giving little screams as they felt the same sensation.

Lovely beech and tree ferns to run through

We came out onto the road for a hundred metres then went down another path to another gasp moment. We had to cross the stream. The person in front of me was delicately tiptoeing across rocks. I was about to follow her when my neck breathing person just charged on in, spraying very cold water everywhere  but mostly over me. I was blowed if I was going to let her get away at this point so I just on galloped through as well, christening my garish new shoes well and truly. Coming out the other side my feet felt heavy and squelchy. My breathing mate then ran alongside me as the path and opened right up and we had a little chat. She said she had stayed behind me as she had liked my pace and my trips and slips gave her a heads up to avoid the same. I was on to her though. I knew her type!  As we approached the finish I knew she would make her move. Having used me to her advantage all the way round she would sprint ahead at the end. I decided to go for it at that point and left her in my dust - or in my squelchy footprints more like. I showed her a clean pair of heels and most likely blinded her at the same time with alternate flashes of Chesdale Cheese. I crossed the finish line in a most unusual for me sprint. I turned round to talk to my breather mate but she had disappeared. Satisfied with my little victory I wandered over to the tent and grabbed a drink and a banana. There were also sticky buns with pink icing but I could not face one of those straight after a run.
I noticed the first person from the medium run came in at the same time I finished the short course which put my effort into perspective.

The last part of the run was nice and flat.

I decided not to stay for prize giving and left. I had enjoyed myself and decided it would be something me and my shoes would definitely do in the future.

The Orongorongo  Valley

Here is a link to a D.O.C. video about the area.
Rimutaka Forset Park