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The Other Wild West

Coast

GORDON ELL

visits the rugged Tasman coast of

the Auckland isthmus where Forest and Bird seeks a marine park.

t’s as rugged as anywhere along the wild west coast of New Zealand. Huge breaking surfs pile in, driving a mist of salt spray which dims the distances as it lashes the hardy remnants of coastal rainforest. On land, remnants of an ancient undersea volcano break out of the bush in black cliffs and dangerous coves. From the sea it’s a wild shore, reef ridden, where the shapes of surfers and seals can easily be confused in the roiling waters.

The ocean waters off the Waitakere Ranges are the home of an isolated subspecies of Hector’s dolphin, the fishing grounds of vast flocks of seabirds, and the northernmost haunt of seals. As city pressures push down into these oncedistant coves and exploitation threatens the marine environment, Waitakere Forest and Bird has mounted a campaign to see the coast preserved as a marine protected area.

Recreational fishing has long been a feature of these shores. Anglers pitch baits into the surf, constantly on the lookout for those unpredictable waves which break as spectacular walls of salt water against the reefs. (Every year, the coast claims several lives among the fishermen and swimmers.) It is not the intention of the conservationists to stop this fishing: indeed they have joined forces with recreational fishing groups to identify areas which should should be protected to help rebuild fish stocks with places to enjoy their sport nearby. There is more concern about the continuing impact of unsustainable fishing practices: suspected trawling by night, very close inshore near the surf zone, and the ‘powerhauling’ of nets of minimum mesh size, using a winch from the beach, wasting the so-called by-catch, potentially food for the native mammals and birds feeding offshore. The recent ban on netting could be just in time to save the 100-odd surviving Hector’s dolphin which frequent this coast (though this ban has been challenged by the fishing industry in the Environment Court). Proponents of the marine park also want to protect the

ocean habitat, by having a marine mammal sanctuary declared over the prime habitat of dolphin, from the mouth of the Waikato River to the South Head of Kaipara Harbour, a distance of some 100 kilometres along the coast and four nautical miles out to sea. Another local impetus for protection relates to the marine life of the shoreline, the rock-pool creatures and the native inhabitants of the reefs and sea guts. Save Piha Shellfish encapsulates the concerns of local citizens who see their shores being picked clean of anything edible. Theirs is not the traditional argument over protecting kaimoana, though mussels, pipi and tuatua are examples of shellfish which are being stripped from rocks and beaches. (The managed toheroa harvest on Muriwai beach has been closed for 20 years because the shellfish beds have still not recovered their previous bounty.) The rapid growth of immigrant communities in Auckland has created a whole new range of hungers, for creatures such as sea anemones, crabs, starfish, marine snails, and sea slugs. Till now there has been little protection for the marine creatures which live in this

intertidal zone because traditionally New Zealanders don’t take them: while the Department of Conservation now attempts to outline local values to immigrant communities in Auckland, residents at Piha have introduced their own voluntary ban against taking shellfish and other creatures. It’s an educational process but not as effective as a marine reserve or specific regulation in saving the shoreline creatures. What it does reflect is community concern to protect the traditional attractions of the coast, and a measure of general support for better protection over all.

he background scenery is vaguely familiar to many visitors: this is the physical location of movies such as The Piano, and the television series Hercules and Xena, Warrior Princess. Landward, many of the remnants of kauri and coastal forest have been protected since the celebrations for the centennial of New Zealand in 1940, and are now incorporated in Auckland’s regional park system. But, as in much of coastal New Zealand, human uses are

changing rapidly which can impact drastically on the environment. The coastal baches, looking through the nikau groves to pohutukawa clifftops and blacksand beaches, have recently acquired a cachet that is pushing some real-estate prices past the million-dollar mark: this in a neighbourhood previously pockmarked mainly by corrugated iron and fibro cottages. Getting to the West Coast can be confusing, even for Aucklanders. There are five coastal settlements each accessed by its own winding road (watch out for speeding youngsters and the inexperienced on those narrow, blind corners). The access roads wind up into the rainforests of the Waitakere Ranges on the western rim of the city, then twist down often-tight shingle curves to the black-sand beaches, with their protective dunes and tidal creeks. Along the coast itself, there are no connecting roads between the settlements. The Auckland

west coast is a place for walking; up steep ridges from the beach ends and along the clifftops through the salt-sprayed coastal vegetation. The coastal shrubland is shorn so close by the sea winds that its canopy often knits into a velvety skin over the landscape. Closely interlocking manuka and kanuka blend with northern coastal plants, flaxes, the shiny-leved kawakawa, broader-leaved whau, five-fingers, and coprosmas, with an overtopping of loosespreading pohutukawa. Rainforest trees, including kauri, tanekaha, puriri and taraire, are clambering back up from sheltered gullies to reclaim the hills. Once you're down at the coast, youre part of a separate world of ocean rollers and crashing surf. It’s easy to see what makes these places the hideaways of middle-aged hippies, surfers, artists, potters, architects and writers, and of professional commuters in various stages of dropping out. Casual visitors tend to come and marvel at the state of wildernesss adjacent to metropolitan suburbia, then return to the softer shores of the Hauraki Gulf. Yet this is no undisturbed paradise. The Waitakere Ranges, and these very shores, were once a focus for the hugely extractive kauri timber industry. The line of bush tramways and old wharves can still be traced from this phase of pioneering. Proximity to Auckland also brings pressure for development. uriwai is a surfer’s paradise, protected by an Auckland regional park which attracts more than a million people a year. At the back of nearby Maori Bay geologists point to what they call pillow lavas, vast circular cross sections of lava flows from an ancient undersea volcano, its remnants now lifted many metres above the sea. On an adjacent headland hang-gliders share the updrafts with terns and gannets which nest here on the mainland. The Muriwai gannet colony, where hundreds of birds steadily swirl in from the coastal seas, was simply developed a generation ago by fencing off two headlands, using funds organised by North Shore Forest and Bird. Now tour buses have to visit on a timetable so as to avoid overcrowding . Tens of thousands of visitors, many from overseas, come to see the gannets which gather, nest and breed on the clifftops, only metres away from the viewing platform, through August to March.

The cliffs run south from here for 25 kilometres, interrupted in only a handful of places by a prograding shoreline of black ironsand, or the entry of a tidal creek. The wetlands behind these beaches are notable refuges for rare and threatened birds, as various as crakes and rails, fernbird and bittern. Forest and Bird owns the most significant, Matuku Reserve behind Te Henga or Bethells

Beach; it dates from when Auckland branches clubbed together in a fundraising effort in the 1970s to save a stretch of the vegetation-clogged creek from development. Subsequent purchases and land exchanges have extended to protect not only the wetlands but gullies and ridges of coastal rainforest which has helped retain the natural appearance of the valley from floor to skyline. Suggestions that the proposed protection along the coast could extend inland to include private protected areas and public reserves have been set aside, however. With so much of the Waitakere Ranges already in public hands, as parks or water catchments, protection of the forests is not the issue it might be elsewhere. The Auckland Regional Council has developed a respectable record for pest control in its forests, and the various public parks have been treated with possum control to the extent that bird populations are burgeoning. There are other pest problems in the forests, however, with escaping garden plants, particularly wild ginger, being a long-term concern. Again, Forest and Bird, through

the advocacy (and practical action) of Waitakere Forest and Bird has helped tackle the problem. Groups such as Ark in the Park have been talking about treating the whole region as a giant pest-free forest which, at more than 29,000 hectares, is potentially the size of a small national park. (Ark in the Park is beginning with 1600 hectares of the ranges.)

The enemies are not just invasive plants. (Mexican daisy attaches to the highest, barest volcanic plugs, grown from seeds blown up from city gardens below and lodging in the harsh environments usually favoured by subalpine natives.) In the native forests of the Waitakere Ranges, cats, ferrets, stoats and rats, particularly, do the extensive damage they do everywhere. Dogs, wild, or loosed into the exhilirating environment of the sands, disturb nesting pairs and flocks of birds. They injure young seals resting on the beach, and kill penguins. Part of the lobbying for the park asks residents whether they would consider keeping their dogs on a lead, and neutering their cats. Present campaigning though is focused on the beaches, the intertidal zone and the offshore fishery. Finding a mechanism that accommodates the sometimes differing concerns of conservation and recreation, the role of local government, Maori and residents, has led to some creative thinking. The initial idea of taking protection from the

sea up to the crest of the seaward ridges, to create a coastal sea and land park, has now been set aside in favour of saving the shoreline. This means identifying areas of high habitat value and including them in coastal protection zones. This could be through legislation or as part of council coastal plans. Present intentions are to create some form of marine park along the coast from the mouth of the Waikato River, north to South Kaipara Head. Such a sanctuary would protect the main feeding range of Hector’s dolphin which particularly frequent the waters between the Waikato mouth and the Kaipara Harbour. With

three known deaths in late 2001, suspected to be through set netting, this subspecies is very close to extinction. A working group convened by Ken Catt of Waitakere Forest and Bird (and a distinguished life member of the Society) has consulted with some 60 groups and key individuals, and won the support of some Maori. Currently, the groups driving the concept include, besides Forest and Bird, a number of residents’ groups, the New Zealand Underwater Association, Ark in the Park, the University of Auckland (which is compiling research reports), the long-established Waitakere Ranges Protection Society, Waitakere City

and Rodney District councils, and the recreational fishermen who make so much use of the coast. While the comments of several of the groups consulted have yet to be drawn up, the local Member of Parliament, David Cunliffe, has offered to sponsor the necessary legislation either as a Government or a private member’s bill. The co-sponsor is the Mayor of Waitakere (and veteran surfer) Bob Harvey who is also the author of two recent books on parts of the Waitakere coast. DoC and Forest and Bird are currently sponsoring more scientific research into the values of the coastal waters. In addition, with the help of ASB Bank Trust, Forest and Bird has produced a detailed brochure on the values of the coasts and the risks faced. [Pamphlets are available for publicity purposes from Ken Catt, tel: 09 834-6214 or by email to kiwicatt@xtra.co.nz]. ‘We see that a number of protective measures may be required to achieve a safe environment for fish and animals along the coast, says Ken Catt. ‘Initially we need a coastal sanctuary to protect the endangered species such as Hector’s dolphin. At a later stage within this area it would be good to add some small marine reserves. These give fish a place to multiply but also create enriched fisheries around their margins. ‘Unfortunately, declarations under the Marine Reserves Act are cumbersome; they can also be expensive and are always slow, Ken Catt says. "We can’t wait for them if we’re to protect the feeding grounds of the dolphins before it’s too late. ‘In time we could consider some small absolutely no-take marine reserves, perhaps supported by Maori mechanisms, he says. These include the possibilities of rahui (local bans on fishing or taking shellfish), mataitai (local guardianship controls) or taiapure (traditional food-gathering reserves). ‘Residents, ratepayer groups, recreational fishers and conservation organisations need to work together to develop ways to protect the region’s special habitats and wildlife, says Ken Catt. ‘Action is more likely if interest and involvement is community wide.

GORDON ELL is director of The Bush Press of New Zealand, and editor of Forest & Bird.

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.
Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/FORBI20020201.2.17

Bibliographic details

Forest and Bird, Issue 303, 1 February 2002, Page 12

Word Count
2,210

The Other Wild West Coast Forest and Bird, Issue 303, 1 February 2002, Page 12

The Other Wild West Coast Forest and Bird, Issue 303, 1 February 2002, Page 12

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