Back in the ‘good ‘ol days’, working to save indigenous species threatened with extinction, or rare or important environments, could happily be a private affair. I could disappear into the forest for a couple of weeks at a time, nurture the targeted areas and emerge having not seen or spoken to a single soul for the duration of my work.

Over the past decade I have come to see that in fact, protecting and sustaining our environment in order that it is able to support meaningful life throughout future generations, is actually about people. The more place-based and locally-driven the approach, the more likely is the work to be adopted, cherished and sustained long-term.

Not only does the involvement of local people strengthen and nurture efforts to protect the things which make that place special, but we discovered the reverse is also true. Working together on projects, which on their face are focussed on the local environment and species, also serves to nurture a sense of pride and connectedness within communities. It stands to reason. The environment in which we live, in which we grow up and in which we spend our leisure time, helps to form our sense of who we are within ourselves. Almost all of the hundreds of different plant, insect, marine and bird species which also call New Zealand home are entirely unique to these islands. They occur nowhere else in the world and, whether or not we pay close attention to them, they help to form a sense of “home turf”, versus the exotic, foreign experiences some of us seek overseas. Taking time to care for our own backyards is often central to our sense of pride in our place.

Finally, the health of any involved economies affects and is affected by both of these components. While changes in each area often take place at different speeds, the interconnection is inevitable. A local project on Stewart Island is a clear example of how intertwined the three, seemingly separate components are - the health of the environment, the strength of the local economy and social connectedness.

Halfmoon Bay is the only township on Stewart Island and makes up about 2% of the island itself. Three times daily, it is the landing site for the Stewart Island Experience ferry service and an equal number of landings for Stewart Island Flights’ aircraft. Thus, it is the gateway for almost all visitors. Many people arrive and remain within the township for their entire stay. It is a place renowned for tranquillity, the health of the local forest, and its wealth of birdlife.

Unfortunately, we who live here recognised that these natural attractions were slowly disappearing. Kaka, an icon of Stewart Island which only a generation ago would flock through the bay in their hundreds, were down to flocks of 5-10 birds; several other species disappeared entirely from the main island in the last two decades. This alerted us to the real risk to surviving species, which upon further research turn out to also be in decline. One of our main attractions within the township, a mainland breeding colony of muttonbirds and little blue penguins, was being so devastated by rats, possums and wild cats that it was only a matter of time before this colony was wiped out entirely.

As the township is made up of a mixture of private land, district council reserve, conservation estate and land managed by the Rakiura Maori Land Trust (RMLT), no one group or agency had responsibility for doing something about the slow degradation of that which makes the experience of living, working or visiting Stewart Island unique.

Our community brought a local group came together, and we started a project which viewed the small parcels of land on one of the main peninsulas as one, whole 210 hectare ecosystem. Land owners and managers volunteered for their land to be included in the project area and locals stepped up to take responsibility for checking traps across the boundaries of backyards.

In terms of biodiversity gain, we saw a 230% increase in the numbers of bellbirds and tui within the first three years and delightfully these continued to soar over the following years; survival of muttonbird chicks at Ackers Point climbed to finally reach 100% survival last year, with the all-too-common chewed-out carcasses from cat kills all but a memory; Little Blue Penguins increased dramatically in number in just the first few years; other species which were suffering dramatically elsewhere were able to hold their own under what were obviously trying seasonal factors.

In terms of social pride, these achievements were frequently discussed. Locals were competing over pest capture tallies, boasting over native species nesting in their gardens and rushing to report when returned species had showed up in their backyards. One recent arrival to the community told a story about how far he and his partner had to follow a radio tagged weka, after volunteering to help monitor a few of the birds returned to the bay. (Weka had disappeared from the main island, and tagged birds had been reintroduced). As he told his story, we began to piece together the numbers of doors on which he’d knocked to check for permission, the numbers of cups of tea he’d been offered and the final feeling of success when “his” weka was finally discovered. Since the beginning of the project, islanders have been paying close attention to the changes in numbers of native species and their movements, and talking about a growing sense of pride in what they have achieved in keeping them safe.

One of the island’s key industries is tourism. Proud local accommodation providers point the growing wealth of wildlife out to visitors, and talk with them about the ‘hard yards’ put in by the local community.  The increase in little blue penguin numbers on the popular walking track to Ackers Point, the stronger reliability of seeing muttonbirds at dusk and the strong and growing numbers of rare forest bird species has led to guided tours now being offered out to the point. Visitors have been reporting a strong awareness of just how special the township is for wildlife, and treasuring it more because of the community’s efforts.

In turn, this all provides more local employment, and increased income for the local economy. It also helps fund the conservation work, because some of the proceeds from tourism are fed directly back into the project itself.

This is a story of a community working together towards their own sustainable future. By protecting their island’s backyard in the interests of indigenous species, they also grow social capital, and a strand of their economic base, through tourism. 

Kari Beaven, local community member and environmentalist

This article appeared in Future Times, a publication of the New Zealand Futures Trust