The Chatham Islands

The Pyramid - a vertical seabird colony packed with Chatham Albatrosses and Northern Buller's Albatrosses.

Chatham Albatross

Northern Buller's Albatross

Chatham and Pitt Islands are smaller echoes of the North and South Islands of New Zealand, 800 kilometers west of the Chathams. Both island groups have been largely cleared of native forest vegetation to make way for pastures to feed sheep and cows. Large colonies of seabirds once flourished in the predator-free islands until human colonization. While New Zealanders are world leaders in returning islands to predator-free status and repopulating safe islands with native plant and bird species, much has been lost during the interim.

The list of extinct species due to human impact includes the Chatham Penguin, related to the Little Blue Penguin, and the Waitaha Penguin of the South Island, related to the Yellow-eyed Penguin. Both extinct penguin species are known from fossils overlapping with human settlement.

Northern Buller's Albatross, landing gear deployed.

Northern Buller's Albatross

 The albatrosses' strategy to get food reminded me of soccer players going after the ball, sticking their bills in amongst the others, trying to grab the tidbits first. These Northern Giant Petrels had more of a rugby-style strategy: they just landed right on top of an albatross, often securing the food as they held the albatross underwater until it released a scrap of food.

Our trip so far has taken us to islands with virtually no human settlements beyond a few buildings serving researchers. Native vegetation and animal life are flourishing, or at least recovering from past massacres. As we approach Port Hutt on the northwest end of Chatham Island, I sense the day ashore will not be filled with the wide-eyed excitement I experienced upon landing at Enderby, Macquarie, and Campbell, but rather a day of transition back to civilization and to the final stage of our trip.

Although we were informed that the Zodiac landing on the beach could be a dry landing (stepping off the bow to sand is possible – I could wear my comfortable hiking boots), I’m glad I wore my gum boots with rain pants over them. Not only does it begin to rain shortly after landing, but while waiting on the gangplank platform to step in to the Zodiac, a swell comes up my legs to mid-thigh before subsiding. A wet departure, if not a wet landing.

Chatham Islands. Map copyright Kowhai Publishing Ltd 2011, published in New Zealand Geographic, Issue 111, Sep-Oct 2011.

Chatham Island Pigeon

Pitt Island Shag at South East Island

Quick tick of Pitt Island Shags, resting (nesting?) on an old wreck at the shoreline, then on to the buses for the drive to a native forest/bird reserve, Tuku Reserve, initiated to recover the Chatham Island Pigeon. Liz and Bruce Tuanui created this pocket of paradise, and several other reserves like it, surrounded by pastures but full of native vegetation and free of predators. I was stunned at the incredible diversity of plant life as we descended the steep grade into the valley. This area has been protected for about a decade and already the seed bank of native vegetation has grown into layers of habitat providing food and nesting areas for two very special species we saw there – the Chatham Island Pigeon (heaps of them!) and the Chatham Island Warbler (finally discovered after two hours of searching in the light rain). 

Active predator removal programs and predator-proof fencing is also critical for the success of the reserves in recovering the many endangered species. The removal of 87 cats and 800 possums in three months from a 50 acre reserve provides a sense of the challenges faced by both the birds trying to survive and reproduce and the incredible group of people volunteering their time and donating their land to stanch the considerable loss of biodiversity New Zealand has already suffered.

We did a fair amount of Zodiac cruising on this trip because landings aren't allowed on many of the islands to protect the recovering flora and fauna from introduced species and disturbance. Steve Howell (no hat, and always wearing sandals) was one of our excellent tour leaders and the guide for the WINGS group on the trip. His recent book, Petrels, Albatrosses, and Storm-Petrels of North America: A Photographic Guide, is excellent. Steve taught me a lot about the species we saw and he's directly responsible for me getting great looks at two very rare seabirds, the Chatham Petrel and the Chatham Island Taiko (Magenta Petrel), as well as two rarely seen cetaceans, a Southern Bottlenose Whale and a pod of Southern Right Whale Dolphins.

Shore Plover at South East Island

A flock of Chatham and N. Buller's Albatrosses en route to Pitt Island, leaving The Pyramid.

After spending some time in Waitangi walking the beach and enjoying my last time on land until our final port of Dunedin, we do a ship cruise off the coast of the southern portion of Chatham Island, where the rarest seabird in the world breeds. The Chatham Island Taiko, also called the Magenta Petrel after the Italian ship whose scientists obtained the first European-caught specimen in 1867, was thought to be extinct until David Crockett rediscovered it in 1978. There are now 100-150 individuals, a tiny remnant of what was once one of the most abundant vertebrate species on the island.

A color-banded Chatham Island Oystercatcher, with 2nd year Southern Black-backed Gull on beach at river mouth, Waitangi, Chatham Island.

As those of us still on the bridge during the dinner service (can’t get enough of Downton Abbey) continued to scan the horizon for anything unusual, the call went up from one of our top-notch bird guides, Adam Walleyn. He sees a Taiko, distant, eleven o’clock (the direction, with the bow defined as twelve o’clock and the stern as six o’clock). There’s probably nothing both so exciting as hearing someone has spotted the rare bird you’re all searching and so frustrating when you can’t seem to find it in your binoculars, knowing this may well be your only chance. Arrgh!!! Missed it. The good news is they’re here. Keep looking!!

Über-bird guide Steve Howell is constantly searching as we are chatting when suddenly he sees something over my shoulder in the wake of the ship and shouts “Chatham Petrel!” while running by me with his camera to get a picture. I’m right behind him with the rest of the birders at as much of a full sprint as possible with camera gear and binoculars in hand or dangling, balancing on the wet decks of a rolling ship with questionable footwear. I opt for a great view in my binoculars rather than trying to get a picture. As it flies away from us at five o’clock, I try in vain to help a birder, who was on the other side of the bridge and therefore at the end of the sprinting line, to get at least a glimpse of the bird that has the rest of us cheering and high-fiving each other.

Luckily, a short while later, we saw a second Chatham Petrel fly across the bow. In an even closer flight across the bow and down the starboard side of the ship (my running lane, to the lee of the wind), I was ecstatic to see my first, and only, Chatham Island Taiko. Again I took the opportunity to watch it for as long as possible in my binoculars, negating a picture. My emotions of giddy happiness, contemplation, and a touch of sadness as the end of the trip neared were reflected in the dramatic sunset. Golden rays shot through gaps in the slate-gray clouds, illuminating patches of wind-whipped water, culminating in a massive glimmering orb shining directly on us, moments before setting below the horizon.

Northern Royal Albatross at sea on our way back to Dunedin.

One of the two dining rooms. Note the empty seat (my usual spot because it's right next to the breakfast buffet and on the aisle): the seats are on posts and swivel. On one occasion when we were getting a little punchy from the big swells, we all swiveled from side-to-side in unison to counter the tilt. The combination of my incessant laughter at the scene and not wanting to eat much under those conditions meant I left most of my lunch untouched on the plate.

The Russian crew aboard our ship (including the night-watch team of Sergei and Albiert who taught me some Russian) had one day ashore before departing on back-to-back trips to the Ross Sea, Antarctica.

The Russian flag flying from the stern of Professor Khromov as we cruise the flat water of Otago Harbour coming into our final port at Dunedin.