Whirinaki

Forest and Bird, Volume 15, Issue 2, 1 May 1984, Page 22

Whirinaki

by

John Morton

A FOREST STILL AT RISK

When logging is halted in Whirinaki — as it must soon be — that great forest will offer an interesting section of history. It will show us stage by stage, each of man’s pretensions at timber extraction: and how each was improved and refined or then abandoned altogether, as environmental conscience and public pressure got stronger. With a certain time lag, Forest Service have been gaining in conscience too: so that native timber extraction has got more and more expensive per unit, as the demand has become less and less. Whirinaki will show how timber extraction went on even when it ceased to be economic: and why it took Forest Service so long to stop exploiting the forest, long after this had become pointless, whether for the economy, for timber supply or for employment. It will illustrate how, far more than being a rational animal, we are still a rationalising one. StageOne: | Felling and of native forests The first attacks on our native forests, a century and more ago, were by cutting and

burning to get fields and pastures. There was not much thought for the timber itself, which was burned or used as Corner posts. Whirinaki escaped much of Stage One. Though Maoris had cleared patches in it for over six centuries, it was to the white mana remote and bush-sick country, with a bad winter and long unwanted for farming. Stage Two: | Indiscriminate It could wait for Stage Two, that began here with the 1930s: indiscriminate logging for total extraction of prime podocarps. Rimu, totara and matai (with also kahikatea and miro) were at Whirinaki the finest and tallest and densest in the world. Precious bits of this lowland forest are still left, on the rich lowland alluvium of volcanic ash in the fertile Whirinaki Basin. Native timbers were cheap and could be used for anything. Before the Kaingaroa pines had matured, rimu logs and some totara went to the mill at Minginui, for the cheap supply of the New Zealand building and joining industry. Whirinaki has big salients of pine today that were planted after natives had been Clear felled. A few people knew and lamented all this, but contracts for

indigenous logs had been let by Government; and — even to Forest and Bird — before the 1970s, it seemed this was something that had always been, and would go on being, give or take a patch or two of reserve. Stage Three: Maintaining a forest cover Real conscience about New Zealand’s indigenous forests was first aroused only in the '70s, notably by the Moyle proposals for Clear-felling of South Island beech for chipping and pulping. Royal Forest and Bird became active at a new level, and membership climbed. Beech Forest Action Committee was born in Nelson. A few radicals began asking why native forests had to be felled at all. Was not the success story of pine-planting from the 1930s on, about to change our whole basis of production and export forestry? But not even conservationists — as a whole — were yet thinking of total indigenous protection. Progress to Stage Three went only as far as the Government’s new indigenous forest policy, announced after the Forestry Conference of 1974-75. Clear-felling — at least in virgin forests was to stop, though

Subject to numerous exceptions on economic and regional employment grounds. _In Whirinaki it did stop, while Pureora, with its endangered kokako, was put under a logging moratorium. The new dispensation was to be ‘selection logging’ for what was called ‘sustained yield management’, allowing the Increment by regeneration and growth each year to replace that year’s cut. The yield from Whirinaki was to be lowered to only 5,000m% annually from 1984; though rather more is currently taken, mainly from the Easter wind-throw of 1982. Selection logging varies hugely in its impact. North Whirinaki in the mid ’70s saw some horrid examples of it, which the Forest Service is today ashamed of. There were also disastrous experiments in Westland — proclaimed in their day as the new step forward — where, after five years’ windthrow from root and canopy damage, the forests had to be clearfelled. Wind was blowing down 40% more than the projected growth increment. In the North Island, at both Tihoi and Whirinaki, logging trials were adversely reported on, and the technique thrown into doubt, by the Service’s own Forest Research Institute. Today, Forest Service is claiming to have improved its selection logging, by the use of smaller and less damaging tractors. But periodic logging, at volumes of up to 30%, repeated after 30 years is still the policy for Whirinaki under the 1981 Management Plan. The corridors are to be planted with young rimu that it is hoped will regenerate in the light-gaps left by logging. The greater part of the rich, dense lowland forest is still regarded as merchantable. Only small fractions have been placed in reserves. The great defect shown in sustained yield management is that it is unlikely to work, at all events, because of the unbalanced age structures of these ancient forests. The oldest trees alive today go back to the legendary First Canoe, coeval

with Richard Coeur de Lion. Trees of middle age at Whirinaki date from the Wars of the Roses. Over the last 200 years, there has beena regeneration gap that no amount of planting will effectively close. Unlike a pine forest or a fishery, where sustained yield management is easy enough, the timespans at Whirinaki are beyond human policy or manipulation. The Forest Service are fond of pointing to logging with regeneration planting as an enlightened procedure to restore forests where the giant trees are declining, dying and falling down. But with each entry for another selection, more of the superb canopy trees will be lost, until only a low adolescent profile remains: a giant forest no more, but a managed plantation like one of the projected Northland forests of submature kauri. If the podocarp giants were really in decline, we might have little choice — on those sites — but to watch them go, cherishing them meanwhile for perhaps the century or more most of them would still be with us. There would be the poignancy of knowing they wouldn’t always be there. But still — with nature’s long and mysterious providence — more would appear somewhere else, in a forest that is a changing mosaic in space and time. Forest Service’s dogma is that today’s giant podocarps are a first generation, after the last Taupo eruption (1800 B.P.), andare now in decline. They attempt to justify this from Professor McKelvey’s pioneering studies of podocarp succession. Properly interpreted, there need be no argument with his findings, as Dr John Ogden has tried to show in a forthcoming chapter on the history and ecology of Whirinaki. He has shown how complex the facts are, and how much is still unknown. But what we do know, or can reliably surmise, gives no support to the Service’s official theory and practice. Above all, replanting in selection lines seems highly unlikely to bring back a fores!

Rather is it a public relations response to immense disquiet. Replanting is hazardous and expensive on logged corridors. The place for it will be on open, clear-felled areas, as the Native Forests Restoration Trust is using at Pureora. This won’t bring back a giant forest for many centuries. But itcan atone for some of our ruthless past, and tell us a lot about the growth and succession of the podocarp species. Stage Four: Salvage logging and its problems If selection logging has been the third stage, Forest Service at Whirinaki are showing signs of moving to Stage Four. Since the windthrow of Easter 1982, they have been getting most of their timber by Salvage Logging, pulling out trees already fallen and accessible from the tributaries of the whole complex of forest roads. There are strong reasons why dead or senescent trees shouldn't be taken out at all. Kaka and kakariki (yellow-crowned parakeets) rely for food on insect larvae in old trees. Like our two rare New Zealand bats at Whirinaki, they nest on woodpowder in holes of old trees. Such trees are integral to the habitat, and rich sites for epiphytes. When they fall, their nutrients go back to the soil. Constant threat of intrusion for log salvage violates the whole ethos of a sanctuary. In Whirinaki, one of the great forests of the world, today’s need is to get rid of the pretensions and obsessions of commercial management altogether. It is man — not opossums or deer — that has been Whirinaki’s worst enemy, and his continued exploitation must stop. There would be plenty that Forest Service could still do well, properly set up on real environmental goals. Salvage logging — we are being told today — could be refined to the point where machinery is dropped in by helicopter and logs taken out the same way. High economic cost, and low return for rimu, with the difficulty of the canopy and terrain, make helicopter logging unviable at Whirinaki. At least where it is being threatened in Northland, there could be developed a prestigious demand for high-priced kauri, whatever the host of other objections to logging. But at Whirinaki, not only would selection logging be unavailing to save the forest (if it could truly be said to be ‘falling down’). Its economic basis has been questioned from within the Service itself. In short, no one really believes it is needed. The 1979 campaign for Whirinaki was bedevilled by two sorts of fears among the local people: First, there was the spectre of loss of employment with the threat to close the Minginui saw-mill. Second, the proposal — at that time — to add lowland Whirinaki to the Urewera National Park, threatened the leisure-style and livelihood based on deer-culling, opossum-trapping and pighunting. These fears were played upon by Government during the campaign; and conservationists are still resented and unwelcome at Minginui. Today, neither the threat to jobs or lifestyle exists, as most of the locals will concede. The present campaign to stop logging would have that one objective alone. With the forest safe for the future, all the other options could come up for

discussion, hopefully with full local participation, particularly of the Maoris. Permanent protection for use and enjoyment The foremost option could be tourism, with experience ranging from education to enjoyment of-wilderness, in one of the greatest natural communities on earth. Potential employment opportunities could be enormous with a centre conveniently close both to Rotorua and Taupo. Tourism of this kind is already developing in the forest. It could be immensely enriched with ecological and educational input. The small village could have a renaissance in its way comparable with today’s holiday centre of Ohakune. Forest Service people could still be employed, entrained not to exploitation but conservation. Instead of road-building, there would be track and path maintenance. The planting programme would be enhanced, not in logging corridors but on clear spaces. At the Minginui sawmill, employment would continue, using pine logs from Kaingaroa, that even today amount to ninetenths of the mill supply. The consortium of three companies that formed Minginui Sawmills Ltd in 1975, were well aware of

this trend. They continued their investment undaunted, including re-equipment with machines to handle uniform sized exotic logs. Today’s log supply agreement with the Government allows complete substitution of exotic logs at one month’s notice without compensation. If this should happen, the Mill manager has made it clear the Mill will not close. Secure employment will be offered well into the 1990's, or as long as the company finds it viable to operate from Minginui. What of the indigenous timber need today? Demand for native woods is declining annually. Under the Indigenous Policy, Government undertook to limit or stop their export, a policy that the present Minister, Jonathan Elworthy, is threatening to change. At one time native timbers were abundant, and could be used — and wasted -for almost anything. Heart rimu was the ordinary building timber traditionally called for. Totara had wide use in joinery, and is now substituted by aluminium. Matai was for flooring. Kahikatea substained the dairy industry with aroma-free butter-boxes until World War Il. Today, though giant kahikatea is probably rarer than kauri, it is being wasted. Indigenous hardwoods were traditionally disdained. Most puriri or taraire was wasted or used for posts. Tawa is today in some demand for turning and furnituremaking. But it is a lovely, sub-canopy tree that must not be further imperilled. Exotic eucalypts grow faster and are fine substitutes. Peter Tapsell MP has been claiming a need for a totara supply for Maori carving and crafts. To obtain this from ecological reserves and forest sanctuaries would be wrong and un-necessary. Enough totara for all craft use is currently being wasted or burned, from Maori or private-owned bush being felled for forestry leases, in Northland and other parts of the North Island.

Government persistence With all the real arguments for indigenous logging gone (timber supply, economic and employment) the operation could today seem pointless. Why are Government persisting with it so stubbornly? The first reason is probably the most human and least rational of all: government inertia, unwilling to concede anything more to those troublesome and persistent Campaign people condescendingly labelled ‘greenies’. A year ago the counter conservation movement looked like rearing its head in some force. But New Zealand Futures has already fallen back. Sustained by its expensive lawyers and public relations men, there were two things it couldn’t manage to buy; the research and Campaigning flair, and the sacrificial support so freely given to the conservation movement. Second, Whirinaki has its immense and — it now seems — improvident forest roading system put in over 20 years, and still increasing. Having built it, the pressures are to get some return from it by logging. Forest Service have been reluctant to talk about roading. Asked under the Official Information Act about its length and cost, the Conservator of Forests at Rotorua claimed they had no detailed roading map, and that the information we required would take three man days at a cost to us of $460! We obtained much of what we wanted the same day by a phone call to the Minister for the Environment, who had just had it passed across by the Forest Service! This showed 350km of logging roads in total: the distance from Christchurch to Dunedin, or Wellington to New Plymouth. 50 more km are envisaged and this year’s vote contains $20,000 for a further 2 kilometres and $15,000 for road maintenance. Last, there is probably one reason for logging, not — in itself — disreputable. This is the pride of professional foresters in a craft of management that there is not

much scope left for. Whirinaki — they believe — could provide experience in indigenous management, even though other managed forests have tended to blow down. However understandable, their aspiration is today uneconomic, and would be a continuing threat to Whirinaki forest. It would be sustained yield management not for a forest or an economy; but to sustain forest managers! To cherish and preserve Whirinaki Forest has only to be seen, in its density and diversity, its grandeur and uniqueness, to realise how much better it could be used. As soon as all logging stops, the other great options can come up for discussion. The foremost could be tourism: from biological education to experience of wilderness: or just to walk through the forest to sense its wonder and glory. This is one of the special places where — set against our long exploitative past — claims for multiple use will no longer stand up. Our mission here must be to cherish and preserve. The political means exist to do so. Our North Island State-owned indigenous forests could be saved by administrative fiat this month: with the economic and social consequences hardly noticed. But — finally — what a strange economic procedure we have been accustomed to apply to such fine forests over the years. All social and nonmarketable values are assessed — it would seem — at zero; and until it can be shown that preservation involves no economic cost (in jobs, timber or exports), it will be resisted! Yet the social value of Whirinaki is high, increasing, even if not calculable, so long as public appreciation grows, and our virgin podocarp forests continue to shrink. By this measure, the future will judge our actions on Whirinaki; and they will take a poor view of our ‘Economics’, in going on mutilating it, so thoughtlessly and so long. we

Later this year the book Jo save a forest — Whirinaki will be published. It contains outstanding photographs of Whirinaki forest and a lively and detailed text by John Morton.