November 12, 2012 … airborne elegance in a spectacular setting

For some reason I expected to attend an Armistice Day airshow yesterday, it being Armistice Day and all.

Sadly I didn’t read the advertisements with enough care. The airshow was the previous day. Missed it. That left us with a great deal of flexibility as to how we used the day. The weather was fine with a slight high overcast, and not excessively hot. Napier’s low tide was scheduled for 09:31 am, so perhaps Cape Kidnappers?

We checked the DoC site and it suggested an 8km walk each way, and to allow 5 hours for the round trip. It warned that it was necessary to leave Clifton around three hours before low tide, and to start the return journey no later than an hour after low tide. We never gave the guided tractor ride a thought, though they are obviously popular.

We enjoy walking, enjoy each other’s company and like the opportunity to share our enjoyment of the scenery together. Besides, I think we see more on foot. From a distance, the coastline from Napier to Cape Kidnappers seems gentle and attractive. One out of two is not bad. It is certainly attractive. Spectacular, even, but very far from gentle, and this becomes apparent even as you set foot on the beach at Clifton. You can see another pair of walkers in the centre of the image, and a fisherman on one of the many quad bikes we met on the way. The cliffs are sheer, and fragile, and dangerous. The beach is a mixture of sand, pebbles, slips, rocky outcrops, and boulders the size of small buses. Walking requires care, and even the tractor rides pick their way with caution between the often boisterous surf and the many obstacles along the base of the cliffs. But we were on our way to see the birds, and kept up a steady pace.  Just short of the main colony at the cape we encountered this low flying NZ fur seal basking on a rock. They have such soulful eyes and appear to reproach you for the intrusion into their space.

Other birds were seen, including terns, pigeons, swallows, oystercatchers and white-faced heron. Our target however was the gannets (Morus serrator)

It took us about two hours to reach the information centre at the base of the cape, which was pretty respectable, given the number of photographic pauses on the way. The path to the Plateau Colony was a little bit of a “gut-buster” and is advertised as 25 minutes more.

Approximately 5,000 birds live in this colony. Crowded living conditions take on a whole new meaning as the cacophony of gossiping neighbors squawk and gobble at each other. But the direst consequence of such crowding is the stench. London or Paris may have smelled like this in the fifteenth century.  To misquote a traditional poem about rabbits by an anonymous author, “The gannet has a charming face, its private life is a disgrace”. 

Regardless of the squalor at home, all is forgiven the moment they are airborne. Suddenly they become the most graceful streamlined creature on the planet.

… until landing, that is. Then they become clumsy and this one looks as if it flared out too soon and stalled into its roost  from a considerable height. Good strong legs are a necessity. The other birds judging the quality of landing don’t look impressed. “Oooh! This is going to hurt!”

One of the notable features of gannet colonies is the courting ritual which usually begins a lifelong relationship. They all look the same to me, so how anyone can tell whether they are being faithful or not is a puzzle. Their courtship rituals look almost like a fencing bout.

We left it rather late for the return leg of our walk, and for me there were a  few anxious moments when we had to wait for a receding wave before scuttling round a big rock to regain high ground before the next wave.  But we made it without mishap, enjoying a clear view of the snow-capped summit of distant Ruapehu on the way. We also got a good view of that astounding geology. 

The weather deteriorated on the way home and just south of Dannevirke we had a shattering downpour which required the wipers on high speed and a much more cautious drive.

We passed through Masterton just as the train was heading for Wellington.

Near Carterton, I paused to try for a “receding planes” landscape as the Tararuas were fading in and out of the cloud, and the train came rushing through. Oddly, despite the twisting and turning over the Rimutaka Hill, we beat the train to Upper Hutt. Odd. It has a straight run through the tunnel.

If you are in Hawkes Bay, see the gannets.

November 11, 2012 … wetland birds

This is a full-scale relapse, and tomorrow will be no better.

Mary and I went to Napier yesterday for family reasons. We set off around 9 am and about the time coffee was needed found ourselves in the vicinity of the bird sanctuary at Mt Bruce (Pukaha). Frankly, I am not especially fond of this kind of bird sanctuary where almost everything is in wire cages. I would like to be able to walk in the aviary rather than view the birds through wire.

We chose not to go into the sanctuary,  but settled instead for the coffee (and a sticky lemon slice) on the balcony in the sun.  Just below the balcony was a fenced off area of open land, and oh my goodness, there was a Takahe, once thought to be extinct, and slowly being reinstated, but still critically endangered … there are about 200 of them alive today. They are the largest living member of the rail family. What an amazing accompaniment to a fine cup of coffee. I wondered why the bird was cocking its head to one side then realised it was aligning its beak to chop of the grass it was eating.

Our next stop was the Pekapeka wetland, a little south of Hastings. I just love this place. Among the varieties of bird life seen and photographed there yesterday were Black Swan and Cygnet, Australian Coot and chicks, Welcome swallows, and Dabchicks.

The dabchick is a lovely little bird that I was previously unaware of. I am not sure which I liked more, the bird, or the beautiful quality of the water. This one put on a little show, flapping its wings before resuming its patrol.

After making contact with family. Mary and I went for a walk on the superb walkway system near the Clive river. In the coastal wetlands in the last light of afternoon, we saw Pukeko and chicks, White-faced heron, Shoveller and chicks, Black Swan and Cygnets, skylark, more swallows and various finches and passerines. Oh yes, and the Australasian Harrier Hawk.

I think this is the largest of our native raptors and is normally found in pasture, tussock and swamp country. I had never been aware of it as a coastal predator, but with such an abundance of chicks around there were several of them cruising at low altitude down among the reeds, looking for an unwary and unguarded chick to eat. 

Nature is cruel but beautiful.

August 21, 2012 … fluff and weed

Not sure why “custard” is a pejorative word.

Things have “turned to custard”, however, with my two long lenses. The 100-400 is in the shop for repair, and now the 70-300 is not autofocusing accurately. Grrr.  Anyway, I salvaged some images from yesterday’s efforts, or perhaps they were not from the long lens.

We began in Clive, where Mary and I went for a walk along the wonderful riverbank walkway. So many varieties of bird that I was spinning. Banded dotterels, pipits, pukeko, shags, spoonbills, skylarks, swallows, ducks, geese, coots, swans doves, and a myriad of finches all made their presence known.  The swans were accompanied by no fewer than six fluffy grey cygnets, so spring is truly here. The flowering pip and stone fruit trees had already told me that, as had the lambs and calves we saw in the paddocks on the way here.  

As I said, the autofocus on this lens is a little off, so I apologise for the softness of the swans. I need to get that fixed.

On the way home, just a little south of the place where the Napier bypass rejoins SH2, there is a wetlands area known as Pekapeka, and th Hawkes Bay Regional Council has established a wonderful walkway system to give the public access to the richness of life in such places. We saw nesting swans, and bickering coots, and the lightning fast swallows flitting about. But what caught my eye was the weed on the surface of the water. There are currents flowing through this area that cause the little fragments of weed to draw the most wonderful ever-changing patterns on the surface.  

Well I liked it. 

August 20, 2012 … flat light

Over-thinking! Now there’s a concept!

My good friend Adam suggested I was doing that in respect of my last two (admittedly introspective) posts. Not for the first, nor, I suspect, for the last time, I disagree with Adam. We remain friends, I hope, despite these disagreements.

For me, the thinking about it, the reflection, is the very reason for doing it. The images are (almost) incidental.

Sadly, photography itself was almost incidental yesterday, as we travelled North to Clive for a family visit. The weather was grey and a bit bleak, and it was not until the very last light of day was fading that I realised I had not made an image for the day. Well, I had, but under such bleak lighting conditions that I didn’t think I could use them. See this image of Cape Kidnappers as a case in point.

So I dashed out into the gathering gloom to see if anything could be salvaged. The fading light won the race, I fear, so here is the Clive River at the end of the day, and I hope to do better tomorrow.

How many of the people who live there today have any idea, I wonder, who the person for whom their town and river is named was?

Back tomorrow.