WADE T DOAK'S BLOG

Pt 4: WHAKAIRIORA MOUNTAIN: RARE FOREST REMNANT AT RISK

2010-09-17T15:27:00.000-07:00

Sacred puriri (has Maori legend attached)

From all that I have been able to learn from people with experience and expertise the

density of kawaka and seedling matai on Whakairiora Mountain at the base of

Ngunguru Sandspit exceeds anything seen elsewhere. Very likely it is the richest place

in the world for these sparse New Zealand native trees. This is just one aspect that

makes it a unique habitat type with great significance for preservation because of the

unusual botanical combinations. Could there ever be an area where such importance

was greater?

Old growth forest- rare on coast

Old growth rata vine

With the current drought an important aspect emerges which has a bearing on the

ecological effect of subdivision roading. After four months without significant

rainfall plants in this coastal region are showing signs of stress. But not on Whakairiora.

There the canopy is as yet intact and excludes the drying effect of wind. But this will change

drastically if the planned roading system is carved through the forest, up and along

ridges and across slopes. This will admit the drying winds and have an impact on the

capacity of this remarkable remnant of coastal forest with its high diversity of native plants

to withstand the rigours of climate change. There is a vigour in the bursting abundance of

seedling kauri, kowhai, kawaka and matai that I think is related to this wind exclusion. I see

this area in the context of a great many forest remnants my wife Jan and I have visited and

documented [digital photo data base/Stepping Stones from Coast to Coast ebook and DVD]

between Maunganui Bluff on the west coast and Whangarei Heads on the east: a chain of forest

remnants that provides insights into the formerly continuous canopy

of forest that once clad this region.

All the forest abundance of Whakairiora is to be put in danger just for a few house sites in

a region which is all too demonstrably [expanses of scarred hillsides] more than

adequately supplied with massive areas of subdivision, much of it unbuilt on long after

curbing, channelling and reticulation were installed.

Such diverse rainforest and unusual botanical combinations

are unique on the coast.

New Zealand mourns several extinct birds such as the curve beaked huia, the moa and

the giant eagle. Now it is not a species but a unique habitat that is at stake: perhaps

soon to be gone forever. This is why I see Whakairiora mountain forest remnant and the

adjacent Ngunguru sandspit dunelands as of national significance, probably global

significance, worthy to be set aside as a Heritage Park.

And so, in calling for a moratorium on coastal subdivision until after a national review I

wrote: "In terms of coastal subdivision, things are desperate all around our New Zealand

coast. These are gold rush days of the landbankers, like the Chatham Islands crayfishing

bonanza and the rush to grab sea space for marine farming. I think Government should

call a moratorium on all coastal subdivision until after the election and there should be a

review as to where New Zealand wants to go: a green haven envied by the world-or a

suburbanised seaboard."

On the opposite side of Ngunguru Bay from forest clad Whakairiora stands the

savagely ravaged Rehuotane mountain. The name seems tragic in that the forest has

been stripped from Tane's realm on those heights for a massive subdivision. The

summit is a big yellow clay scar like a skull cap with a single wind bent manuka on its

crest. This is the view from Whakairiora. Will it become a mirror?

It is called "land banking": using land as an investment. As coastal land with scarcity,

increases in value, it is being snatched up for speculation. Could this be the fate of

Whakairiora? Sacrificed to greed. Tane's realm: just some figures in a bank balance and

all that eroding clay from the bulldozers sluicing down into the sea and smothering the

kaimoana?

I learnt from an Environment Defence Society study on landscape that 23 per

cent of subdivision in the Whangarei district has not been built on. How much of this is

supplying any real human need? Or just land-banking greed?

Footnote: in early January 2007 the bulldozers violated the mountain with roads. Huge

mulchers ground up the trees. Since then, an economic slump has suspended development.

But the locals are ready for a battle!

DVD PRESENTATION AVAILABLE: OCEAN FOREST: A JOURNEY ON WHAKIRIORA

www.wadedoak.com

Pt 3: TO THE TIP OF KAWAKA PROMONTORY ON WHAKAIRIORA MT

2010-09-16T22:16:00.000-07:00

On Anzac day Jan and I returned to the mountain with a four of our neighbours:

Reggie and Neal; Rob and Elaine, a picnic party with serious exploration in

mind. This time we were determined to penetrate to the very end of the enchanted

Kawaka Promontory. We knew there had to be parents for the ever-increasing density

of matai seedlings among all the crisp kawakas and copses of kinky trunked Coprosma

areolatas. So we pushed on through a dense wall of wind-compacted bush that hitherto

had excluded us, seeming to suggest it was the end of the promontory and that a

sudden cliff edge would precipitate us headlong into the bay. First we followed the cliff

edge line of pohutukawa, coprosmas, hebe clumps, a few stumpy nikau and patches

of wharangi. Wind pressure out here has bent the tops of the bushes at right angles so

they look weird and grotesque. But this was a mellow autumn day with a frisson of an

offshore breeze and the sea below, sparkling and clear, revealed extensive forests of

kelp where three Maori divers were snorkelling for kina.

tawapou berries: rare coastal tree

To my delight almost at the end of the promontory I found what I sought: a solitary

tawapou tree with a few ripening berries on it. But no seedlings to propagate this rare

coastal tree. Beyond here the wind compaction made progress extremely hard. Finally

a dense mass of flax bushes perhaps purpose planted long ago by cliff dwellers. The

rope factory…And an awe-inspiring ocean panorama including our beloved Poor

Knights Islands.

coastal kauri

Returning along the eastern side of the promontory, above Purapuratahi Cove, we

found even more kauri of all sizes from seedlings to sturdy, gnarly trees. More than I

cared to count. No massive giants of inland forests here but these wind exposed trees

had muscles. They showed signs of hard lives out on a knuckle of rock facing into the

most powerful winds this coast ever knows; such as Cyclone Bola. And adjacent to

them the density of young kowhai seedlings was remarkable. 'The force that through the

green fuse drives the flower' wrote Dylan Thomas: there seems to be a green power out here that enables every tree to reproduce with immense vigour. Little sign of the months of drought that has tree leaves elsewhere hanging limp. The bush above the cove is quite dense: rewarewa, taraire, karaka, and kohekohe with their fruits like nutmegs sprouting from their trunks, now beginning to split open and reveal crimson seeds like little tongues just as fresh buds appear for early winter blossom.

PRISTINE PURAPURATAHI COVE

All this and much, much more slowed our progress but as we walked back towards the

densest part of the kawaka grove I found those powerful, hammer patterned trunks I so

dearly sought. There they were: mum and dad matai, probable progenitors of the

densest grove of seedlings I have ever seen; as dense as are the kawaka in this same

area.

FROM RAIN FOREST TO OCEAN: HARAKEKE ISLAND

Our party could now set off on the cliff edge walk to Harakeke Island where we met a

pod of six bottlenose dolphins cruising by close to the rocks. After visiting the deep

caves, and scrutinising a rock-clinging morsel of rare fern inches beyond wave reach;

traipsing through cove after sandy cove, each a paradise wherein to spend a lifetime sun

basking and then striding summitwards to the sacred puriri tree with the wide spread

limbs which once cradled a crying baby placed there to decoy enemy from fleeing cliff

dwellers; after the deep valley where a huge deep red rata vine embraces a puriri; after

passing gnarly old mamangi, biggest coprosmas in the world and sleek lancewoods and

descending to our waiting cars and draughts of water my neighbour Rob said he was

amazed at the diversity of Whakairiora. “There are so many rooms,” he said. “You

never know what to expect next. Lots of windows offer long views, even right out to

the Chicks and Little Barrier Island but at no stage can you see it all or gain any

impression of a complete panorama. It just leads you on from one delight to another.

Those giant spreading pohutukawa, the broad swathes of Muehlenbeckia covered

sand hill; the deep shady forest, sunlit ridges, long prospects through open woodland,

cliff edge shrubberies, Ngunguru sandspit in its entirety, on and on and on.'

And we, all my dear neighbours, after our daylong walk, agreed this should be protected

forever as a National Heritage Park.

NGUNGURU SANDSPIT

On the T.V. news that night: controversy over a bull-dozered road across Gallipoli's gauntbattlefields in far away Turkey. I thought of those brown warriors on the Ngunguru sandspit and the burial ground at Purapuratahi Cove of people from the Poor Knights massacre…all threatened by dozer-bladed development…And our Resource Management Act says: there should be no unnecessary subdivision… Can we save Ngunguru Sandspit and Whakairiora Mountain?…

Pt2: FURTHER EXPLORATION OF WHAKAIRIORA MOUNTAIN FOREST

2010-09-16T16:44:00.000-07:00

Over the weeks that followed Jan and I made many return trips to Whakairiora, often

guiding first comers to its glories. We were driven by a powerful motivation: of all the

forest remnants we have explored, this one was not a D.O.C. reserve. Private

ownership threatened this precious realm of Tane with subdivision; house sites and

roading. We wished fervently it could become a regional or national park. Perhaps by

the time you read this its fate will be sealed...

kawaka

First we took the easy twenty-minute path that runs left across the mountain’s northwest

flank out to the Kawaka Promontory. There we found a rare grove of kawaka or New

Zealand cedars Libocedrus plumosa with several huge trees, many good sized ones

and a great many lush green seedlings at every stage. The wind-blown seed of such

coniferous trees would not travel far. New Zealand cedars have a very attractive shaggy

chocolate brown bark. All the way up the trunk the bark fractures into short strips which

curve upwards in tatters. In silhouette, looking through a glade, its profile is very

appealing. Such a dense grove of these cedars is an unparalleled sight in our forest

remnants. The D.O.C. people we guided over the mountain recalled a couple of such

places: one near Kaikohe; the other near Cape Brett, but none as dense as this. In the

adjacent coastal forests we had only seen the odd kawaka or two; never a grove.

On the forest floor there are also very many strangely divaricating matai seedlings,

some in groupings of up to seven and others up to eight feet tall. But we could find no

parent matai trees, with their striking hammer-patterned bark, in the vicinity. The only

mature trees we had seen were on the longer summit track. The berry-encased seed of

the matai has probably been wide spread by birds. It appears to survive best along

walking tracks, where competition is reduced. Some of the paths here would be pre-

European. Neither kawaka nor matai seem to be cattle palatable and because bush

cattle [we saw four] have used this promontory for camping and grazing there are areas

of open grassy sward. Nearby there is a stream in the cove still moist even in a

drought. I think the disturbance of cattle may have created opportunities for these

seedlings to establish. Or perhaps clearance goes back to when the sandspit base had a

pa site.

It is very pleasantly habitable. A midden down in the adjacent cove reveals the shells

of pipis and cockles. The cockles would have been carried from Ngunguru estuary.

There is trench at the neck of the promontory, said to have been a sacred path taken

by Maori tohungas or priests to conduct special rituals down in the cove. We found

another earthwork running up the east side of the cove. This may have been a ‘fire

trench’ whence tokens were offered by the tohunga to protect warriors going into battle.

From what I have been able to glean Whakairiora once had a spiritual significance for the

people who had a pa site and a village of thatched dwellings on the nearby sandspit.

Their descendants regard Whakairiora as the equivalent of a cathedral: “It is our Notre

Dame,” claimed a tribal spokesman.

On the east side of Kawaka Promontory above the cove we found a stand of five

good-sized kauris facing the open sea. It is equally unusual these days to see kauri

alongside kowhais and pohutukawa trees near the sea. But here is the horror: from where the main track leads down to Purapuratahi Cove a side path, intensively blazed with blue paint, leads out towards the promontory tip. I assume this signifies the path for clearance by bulldozer and chain saw. Along this route many mature puriri, pohutukawa, massive cedars, tall kowhais, old kanuka and a big rewarewa bear ominous spray can blazes. Here and there the bush is densely packed with groves of Coprosma areolata, which is not common on most of this coast. It is an attractive small tree with a confetti of small, light green, round leaves and a quaintly kinky zigzag trunk. I love to hold a leaf to the light. It has a pattern that would make a fine stained-glass window!

Near the promontory tip on its western inshore side, facing Ngunguru sandspit, there is a

gully down to the sea [perhaps once a stepped path to a very sheltered canoe landing,

but now choked with cutty grass]. On one side of this gully lies a gigantic and ancient

pohutukawa whose massive horizontal branches lie on top of each other like fingers on a

giant’s hand to form a formidable wall of wood bounding the northern rim of the gully. I

have reason to suspect the peculiar form of this amazing tree results from deliberate

modification long ago for ritualistic purpose.

Nearby a powerful old puriri thrusts up to

support the canopy like the pole in a circus tent. Around it are kohekohe, taraire, karaka,

kowhai, nikau palms, cedar seedlings, a few small kahikatea and a thicket of supplejack.

At the very cliff edge are salt spray adapted wharangi trees with their large, glossy, light

green leaves in clusters of three.

As we ate our picnic lunch in a forest glade the raucous cries of black-back gulls overhead

made me look up: broad, white sea bird wings cresting the tips of cedar trees.

It is too rare these days to be in a richly diverse remnant of New Zealand native forest with

the murmur of the sea at hand.

From the promontory’s inshore tip we could peer down on to the top of a mostly

submerged reef with swirling seaweeds and clear blue water and I reflected: if we ever

had the wisdom to create a zone of marine protection here it would be possible for our

descendants to watch reef fishes flitting about while on the verge of a rain forest.

Perhaps an impossible dream? But unless there is urgent action Whakairiora is destined to become part of a housing subdivision like that on Rehuotane mountain visible through a filagree of pohutukawa boughs across Ngunguru Bay: mostly gorse clad slopes with yellow clay scars and straight roof lines and a network of roads. And this Whakairiora Mountain is those future householders' beautiful outlook. When will we consider the duty of reciprocity in this country's diminishing landscapes? A view is a two-way street...

No place on the Northland coast could cry out more for preservation in the public

interest. I cannot sleep at night for thinking of those gleaming dozer blades carving their

way out there through the forest across steep slopes from the Ford Road car park....

JOURNEYS OVER WHAKAIRIORA-THE SACRED MOUNTAIN: Part one

2010-09-15T20:55:00.000-07:00

Whakairiora Mountain across Ngunguru River.

Jan and I never dreamt we could reach so easily the four hundred and seven foot

summit of the coastal mountain we had looked at from across the Ngunguru River for

thirty years. It always looked so steep and imposing. Now we have been there it is

easy to see that there are interesting valleys with dense bush but from a distance we

could never have imagined that glorious crater-like valley where we had lunch with our

neighbour Reggie today. Sitting on the roots of a handsome Hall’s totara, surrounded

by mighty puriri, kahikatea, rimu, totara, kohekohe, taraire, kowhai and nikau palms.

kohekohe seed

kohekohe flower

We had driven out to the end of Ford road and parked on the edge of a cul de sac

roundabout. We’d scrambled up a clay bank into regenerating manuka and Gahnia

grasses and to our delight readily found a marked track maintained by cattle and possum

hunters that led up an easy slope until we were in a well regenerated forest of mamangi

coprosma trees with lots of lancewoods, kanuka and young totara. A lovely piece of

open woodland.

A point was reached where the slope steepens and another track branches to the left,

skirting the slope towards Ngunguru Bay. We opted to continue our upward climb.

We wanted to get to the top. We found later most trampers would have taken the

easier option that runs out to the Kawaka Promontory and thence to a lovely cove and

on out along a cliff edge track to Kumi Point and Harakeke or Goat Island. Next time...

Eventually we attained a point where the track leveled off on a ridge top with keyhole

views through foliage of Taiharuru and a steep drop-off to the south. Pig rootings

showed lots of midden remnants along the way, signs of former habitation. The track

then leads left following a ridgeline, falling and ascending until we rose on to a plateau

of lighter growth, mostly kanuka, perhaps thirty to forty years old. I shuddered. Through

the trunks I glimpsed a spooky man-made structure like part of a roof gable. Was it a

deserted old homestead? We homed in on a substantial trig station that had been

dwarfed by regenerating bush until it was concealed by the canopy. The track now

gradually heads eastward and down along a ridge.

matai

It was Reggie who saw the first matai tree on the right of our path with its distinctive

hammer-patterned trunk, so straight and powerful. A chain further on I found another.

We began searching for their offspring, strange divaricating shrubs utterly unlike their

parents. Tryffids... In an area of dense coprosma undergrowth I sensed something was

near. “We’re getting close”, I called pregnantly, meaning our quest was at hand.

Perhaps this is some sort of peripheral subconscious vision? I gasped. My shoulder

was actually touching a young matai about head height; another smaller one alongside.

Black fungal growth obscured the peculiar zigzag branchings sprigged with sparse

flitches of green feathery foliage. We were overjoyed to find a kindergarten of these

plants. Never before seen after so many forest walks. At the base of a huge puriri,

spikes of lush green Peperomia were clumped. The sound of seagulls cautioned us

cliffs were close by.

Hunger and thirst set in as we made our way further along the ridge to where a deep

valley dropped away to the right. Descending from the track was a gently sloping arena

that reminded me of a section of the Maungatapere volcano crater and it was full of

immense old-growth trees draped with thick puka and rata vines. And so, at the base of

a huge totara we paused to drink and eat from our packs. A small patch of sunlight made

us feel at home.

Refreshed we continued the track until it led out onto a promontory with lighter bush

where we found a huge spreading pohutukawa tree still in full flower. Its immense

boughs framed enticing glimpses of complex coastline.

Now the track thinned to low manuka scrub sprinkled with putaputaweta bushes, white

patches of starry flowers gleaming through the undergrowth. The track descended with

more and more open grassy spaces until we emerged into a glade of massive

spreading pohutukawa; a gathering of giants, limbs wide spread in voluptuous

pleasure. Our path wound through them until we reached a sandy cove backed by

bush brocaded cliffs. We explored a series of rocky promontories and recesses and

we trod across the isthmus of smooth sand that leads to Harakeke [‘flax’] or Goat Island.

To reach the infinity of ocean only minutes from a deep forest gloaming and restricted

vision is a huge contrast. Panoramas of headland coast, sweeping beaches, intimate

coves, gem-like tide pools; graceful white plumes of toetoe clumps on ridges; flax-flagged islets, were all rendered so much more impressive after a sylvan journey.

These bays were familiar to us from our sailing catamaran days but Reggie, who had

never been there, was wide-eyed and gob-smacked. Jan found a cave she once knew

well and led Reggie along a narrow corridor with her torch until they found a swallow’s

nest. Sand seems to have choked the caves since we were last there. It needs a big

storm...

On our return journey it would have been wiser to have taken the cliff edge path which

would have led us to the exquisite Purapuratahi Cove, up on to the Kawaka Promontory

and across the forested slope to our original path back to the car -but this was not to be.

Reggie had to cook a chicken for a dinner party so we hastened to retrace our original

path, missed the track and got lost. In so doing we found another valley above a

marshy swamp. There were massive old rata vines and enormous, grotesque puriris like drunken giants. We crept past one with a big wasp colony in its trunk. Eventually we regained the ridge track after crossing a disused, fallen barbed wire fence and made our way back to the trig station on the summit and down to our car. It was hot. Twenty-five degrees. We were very thirsty and tired when we opened the door and quickly drained a quart of apple juice, sipped coffee and munched Reggie’s chocolate squares for quick energy; followed by cheese, salami and passionate ravings about our adventures. Shortly after Reggie called in home to relive the journey with pictures on our computer

Screen. With our initial confusion the return walk had taken just under an hour but we will have to return. We have yet to explore the Kawaka Promontory familiar to our Forest and Bird friends, who told us they had never taken the summit track we had ‘pioneered’! This is a superb remnant of coastal forest quite unlike any we have seen so close to the sea. It is another great starting point for our ‘stepping stones from coast to coast’ project, exploring a corridor of forest remnants left over from the holocaust of farming and forestry. An island of survival.

Now, when I look across the Ngunguru River to the mountain I see it all differently. Where once I saw uniform slopes I can perceive multiple ridgelines extending from the summit and forking out onto promontories, with deeper green patches of old forest

between the forks: areas for exploration. It is said that perception alters with

experience: having been up there I now have a mental framework on which to attach new information. Yet it was all just as perceptible before our journey; all those years of just seeing a lofty eminence clad with what I thought was a thin covering of scrub.

matai trunk

RICHES OF THE NORTH EBOOK

2010-09-12T20:10:00.000-07:00

PROLOGUE: RICHES OF THE NORTH

In 1969 discovery of the Elingamite treasure with Kelly Tarlton was a major turning point in my life. I quit teaching and became a full time writer/undersea explorer. It led to exploring other famous New Zealand wrecks: Boyd, Wairarapa, Niagara, etc and to researching their histories on which I based a series of radio plays commissioned by R.N.Z

With the treasure and income from my first book on the Elingamite I was able to set up home on the Tutukaka coast near the Poor Knights Islands where, with Kelly Tarlton and my underwater photographer wife Jan, I began to explore marine life intensively both around offshore islands and along the New Zealand coast, documenting each species. From this work I came to appreciate the components of the reef community, essential for understanding how they fit together in an ecosystem. Later I was to do the same in mangroves; and native forests.

In 1972 I was well advanced as a researcher on marine invertebrates and reef fish ecology when I was invited to join a National Geographic expedition to Lord Howe Island aboard undersea research vessel El Torito. For me its owner, Dr Walt Starck, was a parallel hero to Cousteau: a true underwater explorer with his own incredible array of research “toys” including a submarine and the first closed-circuit scuba, his own invention. My family’s adventures with Walt led us to seeing how life on a coral reef works by day and by night and how humans can survive for centuries as part of a reef community. I saw atoll dwelling man as a true marine mammal, a sand cay dwelling hairless ape.

Following these voyages, in 1975 I was resuming my long-term studies of Poor Knights marine life when dolphins intruded. At this stage I had covered most aspects of underwater exploration when slap bang into my life a creature burst that I came to see, after the ensuing 15 years of intensive research into cetacean capacities, as man’s closest brain neighbour.

From my first momentous dive there in 1963 the Poor Knights Islands ecosystem became one of my deepest interests for the next forty odd years. By celebrating its wonders and writing numerous periodical articles I joined the lengthy fight that led to its total protection as a Marine Reserve and the extraordinary resurgence of marine life we now see there.*

Walking in coastal forest on a stormy day when diving was impossible I almost stepped on a greenhood orchid. Seeing its resemblance to a coral shrimp set me thinking and I started exploring the land as a diver would the sea: following the seasonal flux in pursuit of biodiversity; getting to know parallel patterns of life on sea and land. Ever since the orchid/shrimp episode I have been comparing patterns of life and living relationships in two very different worlds - a gas world and a liquid world. Gradually, from exploring both sea and land, I have come to see patterns that underlie both worlds: a blue print for all life: a holistic “Big Picture”. As Jan and I came to appreciate its dynamics, such as the complex links between plant and insect life along side the fish/cleaner shrimp relationship, the thought emerged: could this atoll-earth dwelling, hairless ape actually find a place on his Ocean Planet: a lifestyle as sustainable as that of the Luaniuans or the dolphins? I recall the boyhood day I’d learnt that the world’s highest mountain had been climbed. Nowadays reaching its summit is almost an every day event, for so long a seemingly unattainable goal. Reflecting on this became a Mount Everest of inspiration for me. I continue to explore the patterns of life above water and below, seeking to grasp more of the underlying blue print. I realise man is part of nature and hope our accumulated wisdom may shape our evolution to fit in with the patterns of the planet, so becoming a healthy part of her dynamics and avoiding all paths that diminish nature. The organism that destroys its environment destroys itself.

From the time of the orchid my life began to broaden. From beneath the sea with my own movie camera I followed pathways of biodiversity across the inter tidal and up into the mangroves; in estuaries, river mouths and harbours

Then Jan and I embarked on a major land project: an exploration of remnants of Northland rain forest along a broad corridor from west to east, coast to coast and in between. Our descent into Maungatapere volcano crater, entering an antediluvian swamp forest, was very like a deep dive...Soon we had created an archive of most of its flora and fauna: all its trees, shrubs and vines; most of its birds.

It is a nice irony that after half a century of undersea exploration the ocean taught us to look to the land. Long overdue...

So veteran divers Jan and I set out to explore all the byways and back blocks of Northland; all its riches and diversity. We were staggered at what we found. The riches of the north, with its tortured landform and two handy coasts, seem to be infinite.

SPIRITS BAY- FARTHEST NORTH

CONTENTS: RICHES OF THE NORTH

Prologue

Chapter 1: NEW ZEALAND'S FARTHEST NORTH

2: TE PAKI SAND DUNES

3: KARIKARI PENINSULA

4: WHANGAROA FOGGY DAWN

5: IN THE BAY OF ISLANDS

Part one: RAWHITI

Part two: KORORAREKA OR RUSSELL TOWN

Part three: NORTHERN SHORES OF THE BAY:

Stepping Back in Time

Part four: NGAIOTONGA SCENIC RESERVE: Russell Forest

6: THE HOKIANGA:

Part one: OPO COUNTRY

Part two: WAIRERE BOULDERS

Part three: RAWENE AND KOHUKOHU

Part four: NORTH HOKIANGA: MITIMITI

Part five: WHANGAPE HARBOUR: PAWARENGA

Part six: HOKIANGA’S HIDDEN TREASURES

7: THE BAT'S NEST-RUAPEKAPEKA PA

8: KAWITI CAVES

9: POUTO PENINSULA

10: PAHI

11: OKAHUKURA PENINSULA

12: WHAKAPIRAU

13: PUKETOTARA PENINSULA

14: JOURNEY TO SOUTH HEAD

15: BATLEY

16: TO TINOPAI PENINSULA.

17: WHANGAREI AREA:

Part one: ABBEY CAVES

Part two: PATAUA

Part three: MOUNT AUBREY: STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

Part four: MATAKOHE - LIMESTONE ISLAND

Part five: TUTUKAKA COAST

18: KOWHAI COAST

19: WHANANAKI WALKWAY TO BOUGAINVILLE MONUMENT

20: TE ARAROA -THE LONG PATHWAY: PART 1:TUTUKAKA- MATAPOURI

21: TE ARAROA-THE LONG PATHWAY PART 2: MATAPOURI TO TUTUKAKA,

22: TROUNSON KAURI PARK AND DONNELLY'S CROSSING

23: THE PAKOTAI KAURI: FORGOTTEN GIANTS

24: THE KAURI MUSEUM AT MATAKOHE

25: PUKETI FOREST

26: WAIHOANGA GORGE WALK

27: OMAHUTA FOREST SANCTUARY

28: MANGAMUKA SCENIC RESERVE

29 HEREKINO: THE NORTHERN-MOST

30: CONCLUSION: NORTHLAND’S HIDDEN POTENTIAL

POUTO-KAIPARA ENTRANCE, WEST COAST

NORTHLAND’S HIDDEN POTENTIAL

Like the underside of an iceberg Northland has a subtle and profound secret

potential. How to define and explore it has taken my wife Jan and me several

years of wide ranging research. We had already spent forty-five years studying

Northland’s undersea riches, subject of several of my eighteen books and natural

history documentaries. It was only after visiting some two hundred locations

and documenting them in multiple ways: their landscape charms and diverse

flora and fauna, that I felt ready to reach an understanding; an interpretation.

The obvious attractions of Northland are well known and deservedly famous but

there is a huge, little known resource that is just as great – perhaps even greater!

Growing up in Canterbury both Jan and I were used to vast distances and few

changes within the eye’s horizon but in Northland we have come to realise, if we

have not found something amazing within twenty kilometres, we are going too

fast; we have missed something. But why should this be?

Then one day I found a vital clue as to why Northland is so special. An ecologist

reminded me that Northland has eighteen ecological districts, with distinct

aspects in each. This results from its chaotic geological history: this slender mid-

ocean finger of land has been torn and twisted and erupted and in some places

turned completely upside down. The outcome is such a complex mosaic of little

worlds and special places; it takes a huge effort to appreciate them all. But such

a diversity of charms within small travelling distances is just what the well-

educated, intelligent visitor of today finds most rewarding. In Trounson Park we

once met two separate groups of Austrians who already knew our ferns and

trees.

I would venture to say a great many people in Northland are not yet aware of

how much it has to offer. We tend to follow the same major highways and

bypass for years the unfamiliar spots that don’t leap out of tourist brochures.

With two utterly different coasts in such short proximity you can strategise your selection

according to the prevailing winds, to find a sheltered shore or a fine surf break,

according to your taste. You can wander through groves of ancient and gigantic

trees; stand at the portal of a vast harbour at dusk; slide down giant sand dunes;

swim in pristine river pools and gin-clear lakes, climb to mountain crags on a

track easy enough for a granny. There are thundering waterfalls and leaping

torrents; a dozen or so harbours, vast or intimate; sandy, bush-encircled coves

and mind-expanding ocean surf beaches; glow-worm caves, rainforest trails,

kayak courses, cycle ways and the fish-teeming undersea city of the Poor Knights

Islands Marine Reserve. And that is just the first layer in this chocolate box of delights!

I believe it is these less obvious aspects of Northland that are its hidden potential.

Finding your way amidst such diverse riches when holiday time is limited

requires guidance and foreknowledge. The resource we have created: Riches of

the North will enable visitors to discriminate within that multi-layered box of

candy that extends northwards from Auckland city. Of course, once you taste

some of these morsels of delight, you may very well get the urge to sample more

and more on return visits. Northland is a wilderness gourmet’s delight.

SMUGGLERS COVE -WHANGAREI ENTRANCE,

EAST COAST.

STEPPING STONES FROM COAST TO COAST EBOOK

2010-09-12T16:41:00.000-07:00

Walking in a Tutukaka coastal forest on a stormy day when diving was impossible I almost stepped on a greenhood orchid. Seeing its resemblance to a coral shrimp set me thinking and I started exploring the land as a diver would the sea: following the seasonal flux in pursuit of biodiversity; getting to know parallel patterns of life on sea and land.

At present we are deeply concerned at the broken links between sea and forest; between native birds and their food sources; between native trees and their pollinators. We are staggered at the marginality of so many superb native trees and shrubs; at the advance of bird silence in so many of our forests. We found people in Northland striving to establish a microcosm of how it should be or may have been before man intervened. On our own land we have begun establishing an arboretum where rare natives have refuge and sparse berry trees are encouraged while the predators on native birds are controlled. We are currently involved with a battle to protect from subdivision one of New Zealand’s last undeveloped sandspits and the truly unique Whakairiora forest remnant: near our home at Ngunguru.

EBOOK

Chapter one: Down to Whale Bay Beach: Tutukaka Coast

The ocean is calm. On a golden, warm spring morning I wind my way down the

cliff path to Whale Bay beach with as much to marvel at as on any undersea

journey. In this benign, earth-scented forest world from late August a festive

time begins. I pass the sentinel hollow puriri tree near the entrance. By the

picnic table with its panoramic coastal view a plosive cluck and a chortle of

birdsong. A slightly inebriated celebrant on the nectar trail. A thick whirring

of wings and a black ellipse hurtles from the cliff edge kowhai blooms and

swoops down the path towards the next golden grove. I follow eager to

catch a tui on film.

My way leads through a glade of broadleaf trees...[extracted]

KOWHAI BLOOMS

CONTENTS:

PROLOGUE: WHALE BAY

Chapter 1: DOWN TO WHALE BAY BEACH: TUTUKAKA COAST

2: TUTUKAKA COAST FORESTS

3: QUEST FOR KOHIA: THE NEW ZEALAND PASSIONFRUIT

4: MOUNT PARIHAKA: UP ROSS TRACK

5: TUTAMOE RANGES: MARLBOROUGH ROAD

6: MAUNGATAPERE: THE VOLCANO CRATER FOREST

7: THE SWAMP FOREST RELICT AT HIKURANGI

8: LAND OF THE GIANTS: WAIPOUA FOREST

9: TAHERE FALLS

10: WAIPAEPAE RESERVE: REALM OF A RARE RATA

11: MAUNGANUI BLUFF

12: WHAKAIRIORA: THE SACRED MOUNTAIN

13: OPUAWHANGA RESERVE: DEEP VALLEY DESCENT

14: BREAM HEAD JOURNEY

15: ASCENT OF MANAIA

16: THE PEACH COVE TRACK

17: HOME BAY- WHANGAREI HEADS

18: SMUGGLERS’ COVE

19: JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF NORTHLAND:

WILLIAM UPTON HEWETT MEMORIAL RESERVE

20: WHATITIRI SCENIC RESERVE

21: THE TANGIHUA FOREST

22: CYNTHIA HEWETT RESERVE: HIGH PLATEAU SWAMP FOREST

23: TAWHARANUI: ABOVE AND BELOW: OPEN SANCTUARY

24: TIRITIRI MATANGI ISLAND: OPEN SANCTUARY

25: MIROMIRO DAY

26: OUR ENDANGERED WADING BIRDS

27: MARSDEN POINT

28: TIRITIRI ISLAND BIRD SANCTUARY-SECOND VISIT

29: LITTLE BARRIER: ISLAND SANCTUARY

30: CONCLUSION.

EBOOK AVAILABLE: www.wadedoak.com

TUTUKAKA LIGHTHOUSE PANORAMA

2010-09-05T21:53:00.000-07:00

COASTAL FUTURES: A GREEN VISION

2010-09-05T14:37:00.000-07:00

“It's a kayakers' coast,” remarked a viewer, on seeing our new DVD on the Tutukaka coastline, “ -with so many coves and reefs.” Over the years, since shifting here in 1968, Jan and I have dived every bit of it with delight and wonder. It's a divers' coast too. The Middle Gable is one of my best dive spots ever.

There is a vision doing the rounds of coastal people that sees the Whangarei east coast as a destination for those from all the world over who are drawn to wilderness, rugged coastal scenery, rainforest and the undersea world. At present we have a healthy flow of diver visitors to the Poor Knights Islands that keeps a major fleet of charter boats busy. But most of the overseas people stay only one day in the area because other potentials have not been publicised. I have met tourists staying in Tutukaka who did not even know about Matapouri!

With the Poor Knights Marine Reserve as an international icon this coast is on track for an exciting future: Adventure Coast? Action Coast? Green Horizon? As an ecotourist friendly zone, what are its assets? How could they be enhanced and presented to the traveller? People at Whangarei Heads have plans for a Mainland Island out there. By constructing a predator-proof fence the area around Whangarei Heads could be developed as a spectacular wildlife sanctuary. Then they are considering a By -Water -to -Walks scheme, proposing a system of jetties and walkways around the harbour, that minimises traffic: ferry returns you to your car-rather like the cream trip up north. Adapting this concept to the Tutukaka coast and beyond, a Walks to Water theme could be developed where you park your car and walk to the sea's edge - a different path to a secluded bay every day. Above and below, a headland coast open to exploration by shoe or fin or kayak paddle.

From north to south we could enumerate, describe, map, sign post and upgrade our public access assets and using the Walk to Water promotional theme, invite visitors to enjoy these assets with as much local guidance as they could wish for. A sponsored tidal noticeboard updated daily, would be a wise amenity for coastal visitors. A major issue is car security and monitoring of key locations by volunteers / security cameras.

We now have a rainforest trail south from Matapouri Bay to Ngunguru, via the mighty giant kauri Tane Moana. It might be linked up with Bratty's Reserve on Pukenui Road and the Crawford Memorial Reserve and extended up to Sandy Bay. There is already a track from Sandy Bay north to Whananaki.

From Ngunguru River and its entrance beaches to Wellington's Bay, the Henry Wellington Reserve, Kowharewa Bay, Tutukaka Lighthouse Reserve, Matapouri mangroves [so dive -worthy!] and beaches, the Soda Spring Reserve, Whale Bay Reserve, Woolley's and Sandy Bays, we have a coastal wonderland that changes every day, dawn to dusk, month by month, by moonlight and quite magically, even on dull, overcast days. I have enjoyed Matapouri at the height of a gale, from headland and from sandhill.

In Tutukaka I see several potential walks that could be developed. One, at my suggestion, is now under way: the former road from the marina down harbour to the old jetty site where there could be an information board about the HMS Buffalo five-month visit 1837-8 with possible rock cairn made from her sandstone ballast stones, 33 tons of them, now on the harbour floor.

Another I call Mystery Bay: bordering the harbour out beyond Becks Bay: a track through long grass leads to a seat overlooking harbour entrance; it then descends a rocky ridge line, crosses a stream and reaches a rock outcrop above sea. A proper track could be made to loop up west side of the valley and rejoin the main path out to Lighthouse. Mystery Bay was once a location for a Maori village filmset [Film titled Adventurers made in seventies.] Very few people ever visit this D.O.C. owned bay. The whole Lighthouse Reserve peninsula might even receive protection with a predator proof fence…

With such an appropriate inspiring promotional theme, and a new vision for this incredibly diverse coast, a great range of ancillary services would arise to create employment for the young.

I see opportunities such as at Kaikoura and on Banks Peninsula where people go for three day coast walks with a guide. On successive days of a holiday it would be delightful to picnic out by the lighthouse in Tutukaka Reserve; explore from Ngunguru to Kowharewa Bay and walk from Matapouri to Woolleys and Sandy Bay, returning along the rainforest trail. Promoted on the Internet as a Poor Knights / Walk to Water package this would lead to a growth of existing accomodation services; back packers' hostels and farm homestays along with coastal boutiques, picture galleries, craft outlets, watersports gear and boat hire; bird watching and kayaking tours; horse riding and mountain bikes; trips to vineyards, organic gardens, orchards, olive groves, coastal plant nurseries; business retreats, disability walkways, a boardwalk for the blind, coffee and tea shops - courtesy cars up to Whananaki for Te Araroa track walkers; guided trips to the nearby Tahere Waterfall Reserve and Abbey Caves- this list can readily be extended. I have already written them all up.

But then the vision needs to be much wider and embrace the whole of Northland with its incredible diversity within a short range. Tutukaka should be a green visitor hub from which all the riches of the North can be readily accessed. Jan and I have spent years creating an archive for this we call Riches of the North, which of course, includes this coast.

The vision must include a major Maori input. On the Daintree River aboriginal forest people take visitors on guided walks exploring the medicinal and cultural uses of trees, concluding with a meal of traditional food. With assets like the Soda Spring Reserve and Crawford Memorial Reserve, walks on the wild side have a potential once visitor numbers increase.

As we consider such a future we should face up to all the problems that threaten such a vision: possums, stoats, wild cats, wandering dogs and goats; water pollution from inadequate sewerage; protection of kaimoana; car pilfering, inappropriate local body planning are a few that come to mind.

RICHES OF THE TUTUKAKA COAST Ebook

2010-09-04T14:58:00.000-07:00

PROLOGUE:

WILD LIFE AND ADVENTURE ON THE TUTUKAKA COAST

Twice in my life I've had the luck to find treasure. Back in 1968 the Elingamite wreck up in the far north yielded such a hoard of silver and gold Kelly Tarlton and I were able to devote our lives to diving. We set up our families in a big house in Matapouri Bay and started exploring the adjacent coast and the Poor Knights Islands underwater. Three decades later I can see how those dusky old treasure coins and the book I wrote on their salvage became the key to getting my diving wife Jan and myself to the Tutukaka Coast and our next major treasure find.

After writing a score of books about our sea adventures [www.wadedoak.com] and making natural history documentaries for T.V.N.Z. Jan and I decided to explore thoroughly the amazing coastal stretch we had been diving for so long. Working on programmes for network TV can be frustrating because only a broad overview can be given. We wanted to get right down to detail and photograph and video it all underwater: the fishes and marine life and then document all the diversity of life on land and in the mangrove estuaries. Only then could we prove our deep conviction: every person who sets out to explore the Tutukaka Coast will discover himself or herself truly to be a millionaire! Because of our region's thoughtful system of Public Reserves at so many strategic places we all live on an enormous piece of coastal real estate; and have access to a fabulous treasure: the finest bits of maritime scenery this planet can provide; a rich hoard of livings things and adventures galore. I realise these are pretty bold claims to be making but the proof is in the pudding. We have made a huge effort to document it all with words, photos and video over a period of forty years.

As our books testify, Jan and I have explored coral reefs, atolls and sand cays from the Bahamas to the South Pacific, Hawaii, Melanesia, Polynesia and the Great Barrier Reef. Nowhere is there a solitary pinnacle of delight. But there are plateaux of superbness and this adventure coast of ours is certainly one of them. During our work we kept discovering new wonders. It just kept on getting better and better. At the outset we thought we knew this coast pretty well but now we are totally smitten with it; the infatuation of a first love affair…

We have now explored coastal vantage points from the Tutukaka lighthouse summit, Wellingtons Reserve trig station and the curving, sand-gleaming beaches at Matapouri, Woolley’s Bay and Whangaumu; we’ve penetrated the tunnel at the back of Marsden Cove to reach the Mermaid Pool and entered the big hollow tree at Whale Bay and sipped sepia whisky at the Soda Spring and measured the giant kauri Tane Moana behind Tutukaka. From Matapouri Bridge we glided up a crystal clear, high tide boulevard flanked by mangrove trees, fishes and shrimps darting among their branches, flounder skimming the sand. And after sundown we have explored the frantic nightlife of a Ngunguru estuary reef where a tropical convict grouper lurked.

At dusk out in the low tide estuary from former Ngunguru motor camp, [best place for sunsets] the wading birds of Pimanu are silhouetted on rippling black velvet as beaks probe and spear prey: All is silent now but for the liquid plop of a rapier beak or the shrill warning cries of a bossy oystercatcher. Upstream the sun, bound for Aussie, sends out spokes of light over the steep dome of Cape Horn and the Old Cemetery.

At dawn a silver carpet extends from Cabbage Tree Bay 25 kilometres across to the boldly silhouetted Poor Knights. There is no wind. The tide is low. Twin arms of the bay seem to reach for the offshore islands. The whole, forested haven with its elaborate, bush shrouded Maori pa site, is holding its breath. Perhaps, because of its long association with Stone Age humans who left so little impression on the landscape, this seems to me the most spiritual place on the coast and its wilderness values are supreme. I imagine that unique full moon night in the year when brown eyes surrounded by tattooed faces look out along a river of silver to where Marama is rising in the gap between two islands, each not quite a perfect reflection of the other.

After a lifetime exploring the marvels of marine life, the cameras of two veteran divers recorded, month by month the moving feast of coastal forests, their trees, flowers and berries. On rugged, exposed promontories, especially at Whale Bay and Tutukaka Lighthouse Reserve, Jan and I poked our lenses at fragile and delicate sun orchids, magenta, cornflower blue or pure white. We marvelled at the unexpected beauty of such tiny, insignificant blooms. That is an important aspect of the New Zealand bush, probably because of the nature of the pollinators: there are so many inconspicuous flowerings, especially rewarding to the keen eyed discoverer. Hidden jewels. Not so the gorgeous gold of the kowhais, the virginal white of the clematis and the eye candy crimson of pohutukawas. Our explorations have tried to inventory all the coastal vegetation for the visitor, establishing each plant and then zooming in closer than the unaided eye can see.

Then, to provide further insight into nature’s diverse riches in this district, complementary to that in the adjacent sea, we set about documenting the birds, butterflies and moths; beetles, wetas and other insects; spiders, flies and geckoes, along with the herbs, reeds and grasses; fungi, lichens and mosses. We added all this to our extensive archive of marine life at the Poor Knights and on the adjacent Tutukaka Coast garnered over forty years of diving. A compendium that, while not exhaustive, presents a pretty detailed and unique overview of the big picture on our coast, above and below water.

Looking back on it all now I recall that Jan and I got a great many pleasant shocks. So many new discoveries in an area we thought familiar to us. So much more for the traveller to enjoy with a little guidance. My second time to find treasure: the Tutukaka Coast.

CHAPTERS:

PROLOGUE: WILD LIFE AND ADVENTURE ON THE TUTUKAKA COAST

1 HEADLAND SUNRISE: TUTUKAKA LIGHTHOUSE

2 BIRTH OF THE TUTUKAKA COAST

3 MATAPOURI BAY

4 MARSDEN COVE

5 PEBBLY BEACH

6 WHALE BAY

7 DEEP COAST DIVE

8 ASCENDING THE SLOPE

9 WHERE WORLDS COLLIDE: TIDE POOLS OF DOLPHIN BAY

10 UP THE CLIFF

11 SEASONS AT WHALE BAY: A PORTRAIT

12 TUTUKAKA COAST FORESTS

13 KOWHAI COAST

14 BIRD TIME ON THE TUTUKAKA COAST

15 TE ARAROA THE LONG PATHWAY:

Pt. 1: TUTUKAKA- MATAPOURI,

16 TE ARAROA THE LONG PATHWAY:

Pt. 2: MATAPOURI TO TUTUKAKA

17 WALKWAY TO BOUGAINVILLE MONUMENT

18 TREES IN THE SEA:

EXPLORING LIFE IN TUTUKAKA COAST MANGROVES

19 STORM COAST

20 TUTUKAKA COAST AT DUSK AND DAWN: A CELEBRATION

21 WHAT TO DO ON THE TUTUKAKA COAST

22 CONCLUSION

AVAILABLE FOR DOWNLOAD: www.wadedoak.com

Copyright Wade Doak

NGUNGURU RIVER ENTRANCE

BEST OF TUTUKAKA COAST SCENERY, LOCATIONS, WILDLIFE DVD

2010-09-03T16:13:00.000-07:00

TUTUKAKA COAST FORESTS

While familiarising ourselves with the coastal trees and shrubs of Whale Bay Reserve at

the same time we were learning to recognise all those in our own piece of forest, some

five kilometres from the coast but running out to the tidal Ngunguru River. Over many

years Jan and I had developed extensive picture files of the marine life on this coast and

up in its mangrove estuaries. Now, in the forest exploration phase of our lives,

equipped with digital cameras, we could afford to document each plant as a journey

through its life cycle, from seedling to bloom. Guided by a check list of plants recorded

for our ecological region and aided by local experts Guy Bowden, Lisa Forester and our

Forest and Bird friends, we set out to locate each species and trace its annual cycle. Our

computer built up a huge file which is easy to extend, revise and upgrade.

Gradually our want list induced us to explore further a field, checking out the Hugh

Crawford Memorial Reserve, Bratty’s Bush Reserve, the Soda Spring Reserve and

other Tutukaka coast forest remnants until we had completed our digital data base.

Besides trees and shrubs, it includes vines, ferns, orchids, grasses [ etc.], herbs, fungi

and lichens [etc]. By this stage we had become painfully aware there were certain plants

on the Tutukaka Coast that are rare or restricted to a few locations.

At Woolley's Bay one spring day (mid-October) I sighted what I thought was an

amazingly early pohutukawa in bloom. Out on a branch a host of bees were feasting on

vivid red star burst blossoms. This I discovered was a M. carminea rata vine. I know of

only two others in this area.

On the slopes of Whale Bay our plant list expanded when, in late October, we

discovered the lemon-scented clematis C. foetida with its delicate strings of pale yellow

flowers; a new record for the area. Nearby were hybrid lancewoods and, where the hill

meets the flats, dozens of healthy bushes of N.Z. gloxinia Rhabdothamnus. Along the

main track in early November the fragrant native jasmine has pendant blooms that

develop into long black seed pods like skinny beans. The vine spirals so tightly around

its host tree it leaves a continuous groove up its trunk.

At Matapouri on a steep slope we found a few tree tutu bushes, so abundant in forests

further north. And on the flat below, a strange puriri with pure white flowers rather than the

usual pink. On a rock outcrop near the beach, Melicytus novae-zelandiae another

rarity in this area. Around the cliffs were karo with their dusk scented deep red flowers;

on a hill ridge was an aged ngaio, leaves dotted with tiny oil glands; and in forest behind

the estuary, a solitary hard beech, Notofagus truncata fell out of a land slip. In two beach

areas we found the fuchsia, F. procumbens with cornflower blue and golden flowers,

exquisite enough to die for. Beside the road south a small group of rare tree daisies,

Olearia solandri which bear masses of minute starry white flowers in mid-April.

At the Soda Spring Reserve, after having a refreshing soda drink from the bubbling

forest edge spring, we found nearby a massive puka vine writhing up an ancient totara,

along with several big ratas. Possums delight in feasting on the lush, broad leaves of

puka. Their hosts are a sign of old growth trees. Such mighty vines with their distinctive

ribbed stems are becoming all too rare a sight.

On Tutukaka Lighthouse Reserve close to the lighthouse itself, is a perfectly spherical,

wind-compacted haekaro, P. umbellatum along with several rare shrubs. The Bowden

property just to the north has a patch of rare king ferns, poataniwha shrubs and a very

rare coastal maire tree.

Around the shores of Tutukaka Harbour we were staggered to find a group of grass

trees, Dracophyllum on a forgotten ridge; a mountain maire above the marina;

snowberry shrubs on terraces above the car park and in a sequestered corner,

a rare colony of Pratia (Colensoa) a lobelia-like native, with big soft leaves and blue-purple

flowers and berries.

TANE MOANA IN 1972

In a small D.O.C. Reserve just behind Tutukaka, stands the GIANT KAURI: Tane Moana. Jan and I measured it carefully. A metre above ground level its girth is 11.16 metres. It would be over a thousand years old. While not as tall, its girth is as great as some of the famous trees in Waipoua Forest.

In Ngunguru Reserve behind the public library the forks of a few pohutukawa trees

support epiphytic shrubs of P. cornufolium, with their attractive scarlet seed capsules.

Up the river we have found a ngaio tree, brilliant M. fulgens rata and several grass trees. A

mountain maire and P. umbellatum both extend from the bush over salt water.

Up stream, where fresh water begins near the Scow Landing, we found a huge titoki on

the river bank and a grove of sturdy ribbonwoods Plagianthus regius out in a paddock.

Scattered through the area we know of a few hinau, pukatea, Kirk's daisy; tawa, miro:

matai, kawaka, akeake, tarata, tawapou and kohuhu; all sporadic or rare. The whau tree,

lightest wood in the world and once an attractive part of this coastal forest, has now

vanished from the wild, but one lives on the saddle to Pebbly Beach.

At odd secluded places along Ngunguru estuary we have discovered rare colonies of mairehau bushes, their refreshingly aromatic leaves, stunning white flowers and red berries make me wonder why such a lovely native plant should become so scarce and forgotten.

Northland forests are especially diverse because they support species with sub tropical

origins as well as temperate climate trees. The Tutukaka Coast is part of an ecological

district extending north to the Bay of Islands and south almost to Whangarei Heads, in

which forest types vary in a rich mosaic of patches. There are steep slopes and ridges

where tanekaha, totara and kanuka are dominant. Elsewhere, kauri, towai and taraire.

Puriri and taraire may predominate in a gully. There are slopes which are mainly towai

mixed with rewarewa and puriri. A ridge may have a predominant stand of rimu. In

some areas, like the view from my window, there is a nice mixture of kaihikatea, rimu,

kauri, totara, karaka, puriri, kohekohe, rewarewa, kanuka, nikau, cabbage trees and tree

ferns. Similar locations are sprinkled with northern rata, and the occasional kawaka, tawa,

pukatea, matai, miro or lancewood.

Some trees, like rimu and kaihikatea, have regular conical forms. Others, such as taraire,

kohekohe and kauri, have a sprawling canopy. This creates variations in light access that

offer opportunities for smaller trees as a second canopy or understorey. Depending on

situation this may include pigeonwood, tree fuchsia, houhere, kowhai, red matipo

(mapou), five finger, pate, hangehange, mamangi and kanuka. On forest margins and in

light wells there is an edge community that may include kumarahou, mingimingi,

kawakawa, poroporo, korokia, hebe, rangiora, wharangi, tree daisy, manuka, taupata,

karamu and other small coprosmas; the bush daphne Alseuosmia ; the N.Z. gloxinia

Rhabdothamnus; cabbage trees of two species and flax. Then, there are all the vines and other plants...

I am deeply alarmed at the number of New Zealand plants we have found that are

marginal or threatened. What are the causes of this serious loss of biodiversity? A

great many of our New Zealand trees are berry producers and have male and female forms:dioecious. Lack of birds to distribute them and gender isolation would be major factors. More than a century of forest clearance and burn offs hit this land hard. Another

factor would be a lack of pollinators: birds, geckos and fruit bats. Scarcity of available

habitat would be another. People developing life-style blocks and wishing to

revegetate could have a major positive effect here if they were aware of the appropriate

plants and their habitat needs. The current trend towards vigorous pest control on the Tutukaka Coast will reap huge benefits for all the pollinators, seed distributors and plants.

One of my green neighbours, to his horror, almost cut down the biggest, most

umbrageous putaputaweta tree I have ever seen, thinking it was a privet. Another, a

great lover of plants, was half way through demolishing a magnificent native kohia passionfruit vine believing it was an exotic, accursed wind-spread moth plant. We New Zealanders are often unfamiliar with many of our finest plants and risk losing them forever as our forests become bird silent; our landscape exotic. The Tutukaka Coast has an immense future as a refugium: an oasis of wildlife belonging to the ancient world of Gondwana.

COPPER BUTTERFLY

BEST OF TUTUKAKA COAST

000 BEST SCENERY

001BEST TREES

002 BEST VINES

003 BEST ORCHIDS

004 BEST FERNS

005 BEST HERBS

006 BEST FUNGI etc

007 BEST BIRDS

008 BEST REPTILES etc

009 BEST LAND INVERTEBRATES

010 BEST FISH TUTUKAKA COAST /POOR KNIGHTS

011 BEST MARINE INVRTS TUTUKAKA COAST /POOR KNIGHTS

012 BEST MANGROVES

DVD DISC available: www.wadedoak.com

GREEN GECKO

MIROMIRO

ESTUARINE TRIPLEFIN

EXPLORE THE TUTUKAKA COAST: Walks, Locations, Wildlife-on DVD

2010-09-02T14:26:00.000-07:00

Now you are on the Tutukaka Paradise Coast, a smorgasbord of

amazing adventures awaits you. This itinerary could be pursued with lots of rewarding walking or, for the less mobile, a series of car accessible picnic stops. The route outlined here could be approached in any sequence but for map purposes follows a trail from north to south. A drive along the rollicking curves of the Kaiatea Rd with some pleasant music soon brings you to Sandy Bay, top surfing beach. Cross a small bridge to McCauslin Rd, and wind up to a spur graced by a striking seashell spiral house where Daisy Bay invites you to explore its solitudes and enjoy splendid Poor Knights Island views-or take a serious four hour stroll up to Whananaki on the well marked D.O.C. Walkway via the secluded and lovely Calm Bay and the Bougainville Monument.

Don’t forget Woolley’s Bay as you cruise this headland coast southwards. From its carpark you stroll along the dunes to a snug western corner: a well concealed lagoon and a rock citadel where seagulls nest in spring. Or walk the other way at low tide, crossing tiny Staffa Bay to rock hop under the shag colonies.

On to one of the pearls of this coast: Whale Bay Reserve, where a well maintained network of tracks offer a chocolate box set of choices: unforgettable Whale Bay with pohutukawa boughs over the sand for seating: a west facing beach so striking at dusk. Or, for the more adventurous, cross over the ridge to east-facing Cabbage Tree Bay: rock pools, caves, a Maori pa: and a profoundly spiritual ambience. You can even follow the cliff edge track over to the north end of Matapouri Bay. Or drive there.

Now at Matapouri: another set of delightful choices: follow the curving sea brink round to a low saddle through to Pebbly Beach and let its semi-precious stones warm your body after a swim; or carry on around Matapouri Beach to Marsden Cove where a track leads to a tunnel which rebirths you in a rocky cove with an island and leads out to the deep Mermaid Pool on the ocean headland. As you leave Matapouri dont overlook the crystal clear estuary: at high tide an upstream snorkel from the bridge provides an experience like a coral reef excursion: very clear water and fishes swimming through mangrove tree branches.

As you head south towards Tutukaka a road marked “Private” leads out to a public reserve with another rich medley of beaches: from the Lighthouse Reserve car park a good track leads out to the Lighthouse a superb jaunt with well made steps in steep places and, at the summit: panoramic views of the entire headland coast that induce ecstasy on a fine day. On its north side this track offers a side path down to a very secluded beach: Rocky Bay or, south of the carpark: a tunnel track through bush down to Beck’s Bay where kauri trees stand on the cliffs and native copper butterflies flit.

Tutukaka Harbour itself offers a series of pleasantly sheltered little

beaches: a handy one at the end of the marina; then along the south side of the harbour: Church Bay with its grand old pohutukawa; Kowharewa Bay, with good car side picnic facilities; and Pacific Bay: pleasant for snorkeling; sunny at day’s end. At night, a funky scuba dive. Kayak hire offers you the entire harbour including Phillip Island out in the middle, with its tiny beach. It is an old volcano plug named after the first man to map this coast.

The route leads out to Dolphin Road: a quick hike up steps to the summit Wellington’s Reserve trig station with incredible panoramic views of ocean and coastline; or down the “Beach Access” right-of-way to Dolphin Bay Beach, best at low tide when a rich array of deep tide pools can be explored. Snorkeling here is at its finest.

The road continues out to Whangaumu Beach [=Wellington’s Bay] with pleasant access parks at each end. This beach is ideal when winds blow from the norwest. At low tide you can skirt the coast to the east through an adventurous series of rocky coves backed by bush-clad cliffs.

At the west end the Ngunguru Walking Track, passable at low tide, skirts an enchanted coast to Te Maika Rd, Ngunguru through a series of intimate coves and rocky citadels. Near the start, up on a ridge, is a seat to relax on and contemplate the view of Ngunguru Bay and the river bar.

But let us back-track: descending into the bay, on the left is a handsome sign: Tutukaka Estates that leads up to a carpark whence you have public access through the iron security gate to a mind-blowing summit picnic spot: and nearby a loop track down through spectacular wind–compressed bush. Out in Ngunguru Bay diveboats are moored above the wreck of the frigate Waikato. From this summit at sunset the views across Pimanu, the Ngunguru Sandspit and up the Ngunguru estuary through the twilight are a technicolour movie.

Back on the main road down into Ngunguru: a quiet moment on the walking bridge across Mill Creek Reserve in a mangrove glade where herons stalk. At dusk, low tide, the Ngunguru estuary wading birds are easily approached as they probe and spear: oystercatchers, stilts and herons.

By the library the easily overlooked Ngunguru Estuary Walkway skirts mangroves and a cavalcade of mighty pohutukawas to a lawn where monarch butterflies hatch and dry their wings on the grass, pukekos graze by a raupo swamp and perching lilies bloom up in the tree branches.

Just across the road from Ngunguru Hall, Snells Point Reserve provides a wilderness experience right on the doorstep: a special place to visit at dawn or dusk, when the river bend is all yours.

Down Papaka Rd, by the former motor camp, is another sunset viewing spot, before you cruise back to your Toots coast accomodation and its canopy of brilliant stars. Or, on a low tide day, from here you can walk the firm sand estuary shore up to the Old Cemetery at Cape Horn and explore its tumbled graveyard. Local guides will show you the way to our own giant kauri tree, Tane Moana, 11.40 m. in circumference; or to the bizarre and tasty Soda Spring; or several rich and complex native forest reserves.

Toots coast addicts can return and explore adjacent delights: cruise the historic Ngunguru River with Captain Percy or explore Tahere Falls Reserve [20 minutes away]: a river canyon of vertical forest; explore Abbey Caves, its limestone sculptures and glow worms; or ascend Parahaki Mountain from Dundas Rd, right in the city [30 mins]; or spiral around mighty Mt Manaia’s forested flanks to it spectacular craggy summit [60 mins over exciting Mt Tiger Rd]. Then Whangarei Heads at Ocean Beach offers a challenge: as wild as an offshore island and very similar in vegetation. Surfers and divers love Kauri Mountain at the north end of Ocean Beach. Kayakers explore Taiharuru estuary, Pataua and Horahora rivers.

Just ninety minutes to the west coast, an easy day trip, you reach the warm, gin clear waters of Kai Iwi Lakes; the stark, raw beauty of Manganui Bluffs and the richest forests on Earth: multiple tracks through Waipoua Forest kauri glades to meet the largest tree in the world: Tane Mahuta and father of forest: Te Ngahere or meditate in the forest cathedral by the vast Yakas kauri.

Tutukaka Coast provides you with a hub to explore the north. You can easily be at Cape Reinga by lunchtime.

Besides presenting the best walks and locations on the Tutkaka Coast our disc surveys the rain forests and mangroves; the birds and the coastal fishes.

Wade Doak copyright

TUTUKAKA COAST ODYSSEY-the DVD film

2010-09-01T14:36:00.000-07:00

...During our filming we kept discovering new wonders. It just kept on getting better and better. At the outset we thought we knew this coast pretty well but now we are totally smitten with it; the infatuation of a first love affair…

DVD DISC available: www.wadedoak.com

After filming stunning coastal panoramas from Tutukaka lighthouse summit, Wellingtons Reserve trig station or curving sand-gleam beaches at Matapouri and Woolley's Bay; penetrating a tunnel at the back of Marsden Cove or entering a big hollow tree at Whale Bay we gathered sequences such as divers descending on the funnel of Waikato, a sunken warship, sliding through hatches, along passages, the wheelhouse, a pair of big gun barrels, a propeller at thirty metres on the sea floor. Or from Matapouri bridge gliding up a crystal clear, high tide boulevard flanked by mangrove trees, fishes and shrimps darting among their branches, flounder skimming the sand. Or the frantic nightlife of a Ngunguru estuary reef where a tropical convict grouper lurks. We join the frenzy and rhythm and festive joy of a major waka ama race day at Kowharewa Bay; skim wave crests with board riders at Sandy Bay, or stack out on keeler yachts racing down to Goat Island in a stiff offshore breeze. Kids zigzag their frisky Optimist dinghies across Whangaumu Bay at Sunday sailing school. And everywhere are jaunty, bright coloured kayaks. We've learnt that nowadays kayak prows are probing every secluded nook and rock passage along this enchanted coast, up estuaries, across broad bays, around deepwater promontories and each adventurer finds his or her own private universe…

At dusk out in the low tide estuary from the former Ngunguru motor camp on Papaka Rd, [best place for sunsets] the wading birds are silhouetted on rippling black velvet as beaks probe and spear prey: All is silent now but for the liquid plop of a rapier beak or the shrill warning cries of a bossy oystercatcher. Upstream the sun, bound for Aussie, sends out spokes of light over the steep dome of Cape Horn and the Old Cemetery.

At dawn a silver carpet extends from Cabbage Tree Bay 25 k to the silhouetted Poor Knights. There is no wind. The tide is low. Twin arms of the bay seem to reach for the offshore islands. The whole, forested haven with its elaborate, bush-shrouded Maori pa site, is holding its breath. Perhaps, because of its long association with Stone Age humans who left so little impression on the landscape, this seems to me the most spiritual place on the coast and its wilderness values are supreme. I imagine that unique full moon night in the year when brown eyes surrounded by tattooed faces look out along a river of silver to where Marama is rising in the gap between two islands, each not quite a perfect reflection of the other.

On rugged, exposed promontories, especially at Whale Bay and Tutukaka Lighthouse Reserve, Jan and I poked our lenses at fragile and delicate sun orchids, magenta, cornflower blue or pure white. After a lifetime exploring the marvels of marine life, the cameras of two veteran divers recorded, month by month the moving feast of coastal forest flowers as we marvelled at the unexpected beauty of such tiny, insignificant blooms. That is an important aspect of the New Zealand bush, probably because of the nature of the pollinators: there are so many inconspicuous flowerings, especially rewarding to the keen eyed discoverer. Hidden jewels. Not so the gorgeous gold of the kowhais, the virginal white of the clematis and the eye candy crimson of pohutukawas. Our film tries to inventory them all for the visitor, establishing each tree and then zooming in closer than the unaided eye can see.

DVD DISC available: www.wadedoak.com

WAKA AMA AT WHANGAMUMU BAY

THE UNSEEN TUTUKAKA COAST

2010-08-31T14:44:00.000-07:00

VIDEO POSTCARD on DVD

Does the Tutukaka Coast have a soul? Is there some sort of essence that distinguishes this portion of Northland from everywhere else? From the poignant Bougainville monument high on the ridge between Whananaki and the Tutukaka Coast, Jan and I have spent years documenting the coast line, visiting publicly accessible locations all the way south to Ngunguru Bay and then documenting its changes at dawn and dusk in mid-winter. At this point we sensed a new challenge. To complete the big picture, both wide and deep, we needed to visit intervening locations on privately owned coastal land and in some cases, to push the edge and reach points of view right off the beaten track. Only then, we surmised, would it be possible to gain an insight into the very heart of this highly indented and diverse headland coast.

Every landowner we approached gave us full support -and many a cup of coffee! We gazed at surfers out in Sandy Bay from cliffs to the south; we peered down into the narrow, rocky, almost unknown cove at Kaone Point, just before Woolley’s Bay. From a high point, now a house site, we surveyed the whole of Matapouri Bay and we looked out across the forested summits of its northern headlands towards the fabled Mermaid Pool. Our computer assembled a composite view of this entire turquoise tide gem before we slipped across to Horseshoe Bay and its steep ridges and plunging cliffs, skirting the Edge of the World out to the Giant Staircase, meeting a curious wood pigeon along the way. Moving south we explored a series of dearly loved and well cared for coastal paradises, spectacular seascapes galore; pest-controlled patches of coastal forest, a landscaped lakelet swooped over by swallows and even an immaculate infinity pool colonized by several generations of nesting red-bill gulls. The owner was perfectly content to accept the sea birds claiming her home as their territory as they had, for centuries, bred along this coast. A pohutukawa tree, fallen over a cliff path but still alive, had been neatly traversed with wooden steps, rather than sawn in two.

At Bowden Cove we found a rare sight: an intact section of coastal habitat from covenanted forest valley to wetland lagoon, shore-edge creek and shingle beach. The wise family had agreed that no house would command this charming view.

Further south we were intrigued by Te Whata, a bizarre promontory shaped like the head of a hammerhead shark with twin beaches either side of its neck.

CARNIVOROUS SUNDEW PLANT

Then we explored the North Gable where we found this coast’s only black-backed gull colony, saw a nesting blue reef heron and a rare patch of flowering sundew plants. The strangely formed Middle Gable fascinated us, its north side like part of a volcano crater. The owner is making a huge effort to revegetate the area with native trees and shrubs. From Rocky Bay we watched a dramatic storm cloud sweeping along the coast on a blue-sky day and we discovered a tiny secret cove with a minute island at its centre, perhaps only visited by curious kayakers who find this coast such a delight to explore.

LIGHTHOUSE GABLE

Even within Tutukaka Harbour, out towards Lighthouse Gable, we found a wilderness area very few have trod and we called it Mystery Cove.

Across the Harbour and just before Dolphin Bay, we explored a narrow, steep isthmus dissected by twin ditches or fosses excavated long ago to secure a powerful Maori stronghold. Down paths at either end Dolphin Bay has public access to the water’s edge, and offers superb snorkeling and scuba diving but, with so much to see, it is often overlooked by visitors to this coast. We explored its deep rock pools at the ideal, low tide time when it reminds us of a foray on a coral reef.

Further south the high cliffs offer sweeping views east to the Poor Knights Islands; north along the coast; west across Ngunguru Bay or south to Goat Island and Whakairiora Mountain.

A triumph for Jan was her 180-degree panoramic picture of the entire Ngunguru Bay in the late winter light, from cape to cape and including the golden dunes of Ngunguru Sandspit and the shining coils of the river.

Our visual journey came to a stunning conclusion following the path out to Goat or Harakeke, Island, with its pristine array of coves and caves and deep blue tide pools.

Yes, we concluded, after reviewing the entire Tutukaka Coast on our DVD discs*, image after image and accompanied by music: this coast does have a special cachet, a soul of its own, but as in fairy tales, it is not accessible without some effort and it bewitches and enchants us passionately. Its special locations can be revisited again and again, at any hour; season by season; year after year and are never the same; with tide and wind and time their magic is constantly changing. * “It’s a kayakers’ coast,” remarked another viewer, “ with so many coves and reefs.” A diver's coast too. Over the years, since shifting here in 1968, Jan and I have dived every bit of it with delight and wonder.

DVD DISC available: www.wadedoak.com

*Other DVD Discs: Explore Tutukaka Coast-Walks,etc and Tutukaka Coast at Dawn and Dusk.