The few that have been to Bare Island have made it their mission to eradicate pests and keep the wildlife population thriving. Photo / Warren Buckland
Te Motu-o-Kura/Bare Island rarely gets visitors.
The island off the coast of Waimārama, which was once inhabited by humans, now houses small tītī and penguin populations.
Those who brave the rugged seas and tough terrain are usually there to help protect it (or in some cases, swim aroundit).
But rare first-hand accounts of expeditions conducted over the decades could be key to deciphering the island’s mysteries and the special place it holds in many people’s hearts.
Ngāti Kahungunu chairman Bayden Barber managed to get out to the island on a recorded visit “two or three years ago”.
The Waimārama resident and ex-Hastings district councillor partnered with a researcher to look at bird life, with the pair making their way to the island in an inflatable boat.
They followed penguin trails and searched for mutton birds for about three hours, successfully finding a tītī and a blue penguin egg.
“Only two of us could get on the island, you can’t anchor up because it’s too hard to berth.
“We caught a wave all the way into the shore - it was an experience, we thought we were going to get flipped up.”
According to Māori legend, the island is named after a woman named Kura.
During a time of siege by rival tribes, a group of local Māori fled to the island. Kura is said to have dived down and found an aquifer of fresh water behind the island, under the ocean, which helped sustain them.
The spring (Ngā Puhake-o-teora, or the ‘Burp’ of Life) was used as part of Hastings heritage place promotional material in 2002, and was said to still exist.
Barber said the island was extremely historically and culturally significant.
“It’s extremely significant to our people. There were houses and pā sites on the island.”
Records also show that both Cook and d’Urville sailed past the island in 1827, reporting houses and boats on the seaward side. Barber said it was used as a refuge during times of conflict and also as a fishing village.
Since then, sporadic trips to the island have often come in the form of conservation expeditions with the Department of Conservation and iwi, as well as ecological surveying.
One of those was partly conducted by ecologist Geoff Walls in the late ‘90s.
“We wanted to find out what was actually there in terms of species of plants and animals.
“We also did a severe ecological treatment to get rid of the rats that were there.”
Walls remembered seeing the island full of blue penguins, as well as noticeable burrows.
Retired wildlife conservationist and local legend Hans Rook (NZOM) joined Walls and many others on expeditions through the years, and said he thoroughly enjoyed them.
“When you do these operations, you build really good working relationships,” he said.
Rook would take his trusty aluminium dinghy to get on to the island, then navigate through rugged terrain to lay rat traps and scout for burrows.
“Three days of northwest seas would flatten out any easterly swell. If you know where the landing spots are it’s quite easy, but lots of people would be put off if they aren’t familiar with it.”
Recently, aerial photos have revealed erosion on the island, something Walls believes will continue to happen over time.
“It’s eroding all the time naturally. With the seas plucking at it all around, and when it gets steep enough, it can’t help but fall to pieces,” he said.
“If you compare photographs from about 30 years ago or so, you’ll find the low bit in the middle was quite a lot higher.
“It’s like Cape Kidnappers, and there used to be more stacks off the tip that were made of the same material, and that’s getting eroded away.”
Rook said he noticed erosion more on the southeastern side.
“With lots of the long-term easterly weather that we’ve had, that would only speed up the process, with that side getting completely bashed.”