My time at Lincoln University has taught me that when it comes to bird monitoring, the most common practice is the 5 minute bird count (5MBC). This method is a simple and effective way of counting birds within a specific area by recording sightings and calls. Much of the time, using 5BMC, it is likely that you will not see the bird you are hearing, which is why being able to identify New Zealand birds just by sound is a very good skill.
Lincoln University legend Jon Sullivan did a study on different bird data collection methods that could also mahi together to build a more accurate picture of birds in an area. The study focused on wider Christchurch, beginning in 2003, and recorded patterns in bird species within the area.
One method that was used was the stationary method , which is pretty much the same as the 5MBC but is extended to 20 minutes. The other method used was the ‘mobile method’, also known as the ‘line-transect method’, where you collect data while moving at a fast pace, perhaps by bike, car, or running.
The grey warbler (Gerygone igata, riroriro) are found throughout New Zealand. They are small, grey/brown with a more pale shade of grey for the face to throat. They weigh approximately 6.5 g (lighter than a mouse) and their diet consists of insects and spiders.
Fantails are one of my many favourite bird species, as they love to follow humans around when you are on bush walks. Fantails are able to adapt to environments that have been changed by humans, which is not very common for New Zealand native birds. Fantails (Rhipidura fuliginosa, piwakawaka) are often found in open native bush, exotic plantation forests, orchards and gardens. Their diet consists of insects, especially small species. Fantails are a small bird about the size of a house sparrow, but what makes them so distinctive? Well the answer is in their name…. Yes their tails, like their name suggests they have a long tail that fans out like a well a fan.
Fantail. Photo CC By Chris S, Flickr
Bellbird/ Korimako
Bellbirds(Anthornis melanura, koromiko)are commonly found in the South Island. These birds have a short, curved beak and are green with a slightly forked tail. Bellbirds, similar to Tūī’, have a distinctive song, it is like a high ringing that’s also kind of smooth, and the repeat the same tune. Bellbirds reside throughout native and exotic forest, scrubs and shelter belts of New Zealand. Their diet is nectar from native and exotic plants, although they do consume fruit in late summer and autumn. Also their diet consists of honeydew that’s found on beech trees.
Bellbird. Photo CC By Glenda Rees, Flickr
Back to the study
Jon Sullivan wanted to understand how nature responds to a forever changing world. He collected distribution and abundance information for many species with these three species being the focus. This is where the methods came into play as a standardised method and a repeatable one is needed to accurately tell us if a species is present or not. The methods talked about above were to work alongside each other.
Around 100,000 bird counts were collected. The approach used helped to summarise data that was from one location, a certain time each week, and one daily route. The results showed that this approach was effective and just as effective as the 5 minute bird count. Counting birds while riding your bike along a road was just as effective at estimating and following trends as more traditional methods.
Fantails, grey warblers, and bellbirds (but not to the same extent as the other 2) are majorly restricted to their forest biotopes and native plantings, particularly in spring.
Like any good study, more data are needed to get a better and clearer understanding. This could create a good opportunity at Lincoln University to teach students doing ecology to learn how to use different techniques besides just the 5MBC methods. Then we too can collect decades long information on our favourite birds.
This article was prepared by postgraduate student Caitlan Christmas, Masters of Science in Ecology and Conservation, for an assignment in ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology.
Have you ever bitten into a slice of bread, only to find out that it’s gone mouldy? Yuck! But what causes mould, and how does it spread? This was a mystery solved by scientists in the 1800s.
Mould in bread is caused by a fungus (fungifor multiple). Fungi are made of many tiny branches that grow into a huge maze. These branches reach out to find food from the environment around them; the branches spread from a central point to search for food at the edges. As resources run low, the middle of the fungus dies, creating an expanding ring of live branches. There are many types of fungi out there, and mould is one type that we try to avoid when we store our fruit, vegetables, and bread. When scientists discovered fungi, they solved one mystery, but there are new questions to be answered.
One mystery involves atype of insect that loves to eat fungi: beetles! Specifically, beetles in the group called Brontini. These little guys eat fungi when they are larvae (baby beetles before they’ve become adults).Usually, the these larvae eat fungi under the bark of trees, but recently a special Brontini beetle was found. This beetle, called Protodendrophagus antipodes by scientists, lives up in the mountains of New Zealand, above the treeline in the alpine zone. Protodendrophagus antipodes is a long name, so we’ll call them Anti.
Anti (Protodendrophagus antipodes) larva. Photo credit: John Marris.
Anti are special for more than one reason. First, they live way up in the cold alpine area, which is a harsh environment to live in. The freezing temperatures and dry environment even stop trees from growing there! Second, every other species of Brontini beetle feeds on fungi under tree bark. Confusingly, the area where Anti lives doesn’t have these fungi. Since it’s too high up the mountain for trees to grow, there’s no fungi under tree bark for the beetles to munch on. And so, one group of enthusiastic scientists decided to figure out what these little guys eat. Let’s meet our investigators!
Our team is made up of three skilled diet detectives: John Marris (“The Mastermind”) – the strategic leader who knows the ins and outs of beetles; David Hawke (“The Brains”) – a science whiz with a flair for chemistry; and David Glenny (“The Sidekick”) – your friendly neighbourhood plant expert. Together, the team solved the mini mystery in the mountains: where is the food for Anti?
In 2018, the team went into the Southern Alps on an exciting trip to examine the scene and gather more evidence. They found two very important clues. First, there were lots of lichens in the areas where the beetles live. Second, sometimes the beetles lived where there wasn’t anything else to eat. I bet you can guess what our prime menu suspect is!
You’ve probably seen lichens around, though you may not have known what they were. Lichens grow on trees and rocks, but they’re not just one species; lichens are an example of a “symbiotic relationship”. This is when two organisms work together to boost each other’s chance of survival. In this case, the organisms work so closely together that the lichen itself is actually made up of both species! The body of the lichen is a strong skeleton built from fungus. Inside that skeleton live algae, plant-like organisms that can use the sun to make food. In this way, the fungus keeps the algae safe, and the algae feed the fungus. Win win! Cha-ching!
Since lichens are made up of fungi, this seemed like a pretty good place for our detectives to start. Every good private eye needs evidence to make their case. Thankfully, our clever detectives saw a way to test their theory: the stomach contents of the beetles! They collected some Anti as “evidence” and looked at the food in their stomachs. Inside they found spores that came from a lichen fungus.
“What is a spore?” you may ask. Remember that maze of branches that make up a fungus? Well, sometimes the branches can’t find enough food for the fungus to eat. If that happens, the fungus has a new strategy to survive: spores! These are little circular pieces of fungus that can spread to new areas and find the fungus a better home.
But their work wasn’t done yet: the detectives found more than just lichen spores in their beetle stomachs. They also found a whole bunch of mystery food which they couldn’t identify. The scientists needed to confirm that lichens really are the only food eaten by Anti. So, the scientists put their thinking hats on and decided to find a new way to solve this puzzle. They chose to use an approach called the “stable isotope test”.
An isotope is a special form of elements, such as nitrogen and carbon, and organisms at the bottom of the food chain absorb them from the environment. If an animal eats something, then the isotopes of the animal should be pretty similar to its food.To solve this mystery, the scientists tested the isotopes of Anti and all of the potential foods in the area. A good detective looks at all the possible solutions, so they tested the soil, the mosses, the lichens, the tiny mountain plants, and even a type of spider.
At last, the detective work was done. Their test showed just what we’re all thinking: the Anti beetle really does eat lichen. The link was so clear that David Hawke called it a “textbook example” of the test in action. The scientists were very excited because lichen-eating is pretty rare for beetles.
After all their investigation, the detectives could finally declare: “case closed!” Now we have a new mystery: how do these beetles survive in the extreme cold of the alpine zone?
This article was prepared by Master of Science student Heidi Allan as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.
Curiosity often starts with a sense of wonder and a desire to understand the world around us. If you are a parent, I hope you have noticed and observed this in your children. Their endless questions and fascination with the world are a beautiful reminder of the joy and excitement that comes with learning and discovery.
I have four lovely daughters, among them four-year-old Arshifa Gul is a bundle of curiosity and always gives me a tough time replying to all her unexpected questions. She also loves watching animated movies, stories and travelling. Back in 2023, I took her to the Pakistan Museum of Natural History for the first time. She was shocked by seeing the animal models and skeleton structures, especially the huge dinosaurs and their roaring, Asiatic lions and their growling, and the realistic models of sharks and dolphins. At first, she was quiet, observing closely, making sure they couldn’t attack. Then, her surprising questions began. “Why is the dolphin here? Who made the dinosaur roar? How did they get so big? When did they live?”
As a wildlife biologist, I’ve worked with animals for years, but her questions confused me! It was the first time that I struggled to explain my own field. Her curiosity pushed me to think deeper and find ways to explain complex concepts in simple terms. Our trip ended but Arshifa Gul’s questions did not. Her curiosity shifted to linking the roars and growls to the human voice of the animals she heard in the animated movies
AI-generated image (Grok) of Arshifa Gul standing in awe before a towering dinosaur skeleton in a museum, her eyes wide with wonder, surrounded by animal models like lions and dolphins.
The next morning at breakfast, Arshifa Gul excitedly shared her thoughts about the characters from her favourite animated movie, “Allahyar and the Legend of Markhor”, set in Pakistan. She talked about the boy Allahyar and his animal friends, then asked where these animals lived, how big they were in real life, what their calls sounded like, and if we could visit them. I said yes we could, but explained that Khunjerab National Park, home to the markhor and snow leopard, was seven hours away.
Her curiosity turned our breakfast into an adventure planning session. I gathered information on the park’s history, species like snow leopards, ibex, and Marco Polo sheep, and conservation efforts, including a trophy hunting program initiated by IUCN and WWF. 80% of the total benefits from this hunting initiative goes to the local communities while the remaining 20% is invested in habitat protection and improvement.
We visited the site, and she enjoyed the trip thoroughly and I answered most of her questions and her confusion cleared regarding voices and the original habitat of different species. Answering her is always tough, but it makes me see the world through her bright, wondering eyes, full of love for animals. She makes me realise how important it is to nurture this curiosity, not just in her, but in all children.
Curiosity is a powerful force that drives us to explore, learn, and grow. Arshifa Gul’s curiosity inspired me to write about the introduction of European hedgehogs into New Zealand. The European hedgehog, also known as the West European hedgehog, is a charming little creature native to Europe.
Hedgehogs can live in a variety of terrestrial habitats and are mostly active at night. They have a slow, hesitant way of walking and often stop to sniff the air. Unlike other hedgehog species that
Hedgehogs have fascinated people for centuries. Their spiky charm has made them popular in history, from ancient amulets to modern pop culture icons, like Sonic the Hedgehog. Did you know that New Zealand is the only country outside Europe where European hedgehogs have successfully been established in the wild? This fascinating story of how these spiky little creatures made their way to both the North and South Islands of New Zealand is filled with twists and turns.
Back in the 1869, acclimatisation societies in New Zealand introduced European hedgehogs to control pests. For a long time, it was believed that hedgehogs were first introduced to the South Island and later spread to the North Island. However, a molecular study in 2013 challenged this view and suggested that hedgehogs were independently introduced to both the islands directly from Europe. This means that the North Island had its own separate introduction of hedgehogs, rather than receiving them from the South Island.
To uncover the truth, researchers from various universities, including Lincoln University, turned to historical records, especially old newspaper articles. They discovered that there were at least four independent shipments of hedgehogs into the North Island before 1900 (which were not documented in the first publication back in 1975). These findings confirmed that the North Island’s hedgehog population did not originate from the South Island. This study highlights the importance of combining observational data, molecular studies, and historical records to understand the introduction pathways of species.
The European hedgehog population thrived well in NZ, too well, as it has now become problematic for native wildlife. For example, they prey on ground-nesting birds and compete with native species for food. Leading conservationists have classified them as a pest, and the Department of Conservation New Zealand has launched a campaign to protect native species from hedgehogs.
Arshifa Gul’s questions and the hedgehog share a common thread. Curiosity drives us to explore and learn. Whether it’s a child marvelling at a museum exhibit or scientists unravelling ecological puzzles, curiosity bridges wonder and action. It reminds us that conservation isn’t just about saving species—it’s about nurturing the spark that makes us care. As parents, educators, or stewards of the planet, or a teacher we can foster curiosity by encouraging, sharing stories, and exploring nature together by using interactive technologies.
Reference: Pipek, P., Pysek, P., Bacher, S., Cerna Bolfikova, B., & Hulme, P. E. (2020). Independent introductions of hedgehogs to the North and South Island of New Zealand. New Zealand Journal of Ecology, 44(1), 3396. https://doi.org/10.20417/nzjecol.44.7
In 2011, scientists found a mere 26 individuals of Hadramphus tuberculatus, an endemic weevil species, nestled within a small reserve in the tawny high country of Canterbury, New Zealand. This was down from 49 individuals found in 2009. Why was the Canterbury knobbled weevil on the brink of extinction, and where does the population stand now – 14 years down the track?
Burkes Pass is like a portal – a steep hill that suddenly transforms from the Canterbury Plains of green pastures, forestry blocks and hedgerows into the vast glacial basins, dry riverbeds, tussocks and jewel-like lakes of the Mackenzie Country. The Mackenzie of South Canterbury is beautiful, but also brutal – the sweltering heat of summer paired with the freezing frosts of winter means few people live here.
The weevil was considered extinct, until 2004, when a University of Canterbury student – Laura Young – stumbled across one of these knobbly weevils in a Burkes Pass reserve, rediscovering the species. However, a following study conducted in 2013 found that the species was in decline in Burkes Pass. So, how did they monitor it? How does this weevil survive and what is its future?
Like the birds of New Zealand, the insects here have evolved without most mammalian predators – with the New Zealand bats being an exception. Many species exhibit traits, such as flightlessness, gigantism, and an inability to self-defend from mammalian predators. The weevil genus Hadramphus is endemic to New Zealand and is a good example of these traits.
Hadramphus contains four species: H. spinipennis, H. stilbocarpae, H. pittosporiand of course the Canterbury knobbled weevil, H. tuberculatus. A common feature amongst all Hadramphus species is their larger size relative to other New Zealand weevils, their flightlessness, and their unfortunate vulnerability to recently introduced mammalian predators.
The relatives of H. tuberculatus survive in far-flung parts of New Zealand, such as offshore islands and the remotest parts of Fiordland. H. tuberculatus lives in the tussock grasslands of Canterbury, where introduced mammalian predators are much more common. This probably explains the scarcity of the species. The Canterbury knobbled weevil also relies on speargrasses – which are terribly spiky plants but grows impressive flower bunches called inflorescences. Speargrasses were once more common on the lowlands of Canterbury, but have disappeared, due to changes in land use.
Interestingly, the Canterbury knobbled weevil is one of the few invertebrate species in New Zealand with a legally protected status – under the Wildlife Act. Most invertebrates in New Zealand are considered unprotected.
Empty pitfall traps are a type of non-deadly trap to catch insects. They are usually cups placed discreetly in the ground, that unsuspecting terrestrial critters fall into to. The researchers checked these pitfall traps weekly, and a little piece of speargrass was kept in the pitfall trap to feed trapped weevils. Weevils found in a pitfall trap were recorded, measured, and even marked with a unique identification number – in case it was recaptured.
Unfortunately, the study showed a worrying trend. In 2009, 49 weevils were captured in the pitfall traps, then 41 weevils in 2010 – and then in a drastic drop, 26 weevils were captured in 2011.
In the 2009 season, a small number of the weevils caught were in the farmland pitfall traps – meaning that they existed beyond the confines of the reserve. But, by 2011, this number of weevils caught in farmland became zero. This might have meant that the reserve was a better place for the weevils, but ultimately they were declining all the same. Many weevils in the reserve were recaptured again and could be re-identified with unique numbers written on their wings! Although the weevils can’t fly, some had been recaptured up to 190 metres away within the reserve – that’s a lot of walking for a flightless insect!
So, why were the weevils declining? The researchers make no specific discussion on this point, however introduced predators may be the main culprit – particularly rodents. A more recent 2024 study on large-bodied alpine invertebrates in southern New Zealand found that sites with mice had less wētā (a group of cricket-like insects) and these wētā were slightly larger on average when compared with sites without mice. Although wētā have a different ecology to weevils, there could be a similar story going on in the Canterbury high country.
Since this study, the outlook for the Canterbury knobbled weevil has been grim. Although a ton of work has gone into the Burkes Pass site – including pest-resistant fencing, weed control, and continued searching, there hasn’t been any recent re-discoveries of the weevil here, although bugs have a special talent of hiding in plain sight. Most people are not looking out for funny-looking weevils that live on one of the most hostile plants in New Zealand.
In a similar circumstance to the 2004 re-discovery, John Evans happened to come across a large weevil on a speargrass near Lake Heron – in the high country of Ashburton Lakes – in 2024. Uploading the observation to iNaturalist, it was quickly confirmed as a Canterbury knobbled weevil by entomologists – revealing a new population of the species. Later searches discovered even more weevils, creating new hope that the species could live on. Despite this amazing discovery, the same conservation issues remain – how can this species be effectively protected for long-term conservation? Perhaps new initiatives for pest control need to be developed – particularly for mice – but this has yet to be established.
Lake Heron, in the Ashburton high country basin. A new population of Hadramphus tuberculatus was recently discovered nearby. Photo by the author.
Unlike other species of Hadramphus, the Canterbury knobbled weevil cannot rely on remote offshore islands for survival – as the Canterbury speargrass ecosystems are important for its survival. Mammalian predator control and the protection of the weevil’s host plant should be the priorities.
Translocation of the species is another option that could be considered, especially given that the weevil did survive in captivity. The Canterbury knobbled weevil could be considered a flagship species for these unique dryland ecosystems in eastern New Zealand, which are often overlooked as important part of New Zealand biodiversity.
The critical status of this species is a reminder of the enormous loss of biodiversity that has occurred in the Canterbury region. Imagine if knobbled weevils were commonplace on speargrass plants again, living alongside various other native flora and fauna that is facing a similar fate? Losing this species to extinction would be a further loss of what makes this region unique.
Bertoia A., Murray T. J., Robertson B. C., Monks J. M. (2024). Introduced mice influence the large-bodied alpine invertebrate community. Biological Invasions 26:3281-3297. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10530-024-03370-x
Fountain E. D., Wiseman B. H., Cruickshank R. H., & Paterson A. M. (2013). The ecology and conservation of Hadramphus tuberculatus (Pascoe 1877) (Coleoptera: Curculionidae: Molytinae). Journal of Insect Conservation17:737-745. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10841-013-9557-9
Young L. M., Marris J. W. M., & Pawson S. M. (2008). Back from extinction: rediscovery of the Canterbury knobbled weevil Hadramphus tuberculatus (Pascoe 1877) (Coleoptera: Curculionidae), with a review of its historical distribution. New Zealand Journal of Zoology35:323-330.
Our adventure begins in the breathtaking north of Pakistan, where the majestic peaks of the Himalayas, and their foothills, stand as one of the last sanctuaries, a place where the sky meets the earth. Here, clouds drift over rough mountains and lush valleys, into dense forests. Glistening lakes and spectacular waterfalls shape this natural paradise.
In this wilderness, the air echoes to the calls of rhesus monkeys, while wild boars wander through the underbrush. The Himalayan red fox prowls the mountains, on the hunt for colourful pheasants, a tale as old as time.
But the fox is not the only hungry predator in these forests. A top predator, larger and stronger, with a powerful bite and covered in unique dots, reigns in the mountainous range. The majestic leopard (Panthera pardus), a mysterious and shy creature, expert at camouflage, is prowling these forests.
Leopards are amongst the most iconic big cats. Just like other big cats, leopards are endangered. Human activity and landscape alteration pose significant threats to their survival. When leopards and humans cross paths, conflicts arise, turning this top predator from hunter to hunted.
Panthera pardus fusca is described as larger subspecies, with brighter coloration and smaller rosettes (Bellani, 2019).
Photo Credit: CC BY 2.0 DEED, taken by Rupal Vaidya in October 2016
Leopards are generally cryptic and shy, much remains unknown about these ferocious hunters.
Muhammad Asad, a PhD student at Lincoln University, started his dangerous journey to this wild region in the north of Pakistan. The dangers of the landscape were not limited to wildlife; humans also posed a significant risk in this troubled region. Undeterred, Asad was ready for the challenge that lay ahead.
Leopards are amongst the world’s most widespread carnivores, ranging from Africa to Asia. Prowling over such a vast distribution has led to the recognition of several subspecies, most of which are endangered. The forests in the north of Pakistan are known to be home to leopards, but their subspecies status has not been assessed.
Contrary to the legend of water-shy cats, leopards are excellent swimmers. Still, the mighty Indus River was believed to act as a barrier between populations, maybe even keeping subspecies apart.
To unravel this mystery, Asad and his team collected and analysed tissue samples from leopards. Modern techniques have created a genetic tool as powerful as its name: mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA). Mitochondria, the powerhouses of our cells, have long been known for their role in providing power for our cells. These powerhouses also carry their own DNA, passed down maternally, making mtDNA incredible useful for studying population dynamics and subspecies differentiation.
A key protein encoded on the mtDNA, NADH 5, is essential for energy production and is highly variable among big cats, making it an excellent candidate gene for subspecies identification.
Through their research, Asad and his team found two distinct subspecies of leopard in the north of Pakistan, P. p. saxicolorandP. p. fusca, both belonging to the Asian group of leopards.
Panthera pardus saxicolor is commonly a bigger subspecies and is often more pale coloration, with bigger rosettes (Kiabi et al., 2002).
Photo Credit: CC BY 2.0 DEED, taken by Guido Konrad in July 2021
These findings mark the first subspecies identification in this region and hold significant implications for conservation efforts. The coexistence of both subspecies in the same region suggests an interesting natural corridor that connects leopard habitats, offering hope for their conservation in the face of habitat fragmentation.
At the same time, discovering two subspecies living in the same area opens up the possibility of them interbreeding. This can create some challenges for conservation. We might wonder: could one or both of these subspecies disappear over time? Or will they blend together and create a new subspecies? Hybridisation is very unpredictable, which is why it’s important to work on conserving both subspecies. They each have unique evolutionary histories, which are the product of thousands of years of adaptation and survival, and could potentially be lost due to this phenomenon called hybridisation.
These findings not only help leopard conservation in the paradise of the Himalayan belt in the north of Pakistan, but also contribute to global conservation efforts to protect this amazing species. By identifying subspecies and unveiling their genetic patterns, we can better protect them. It is important to protect both subspecies, which helps protect the overall species Panthera pardus.
Asad M, Martoni F, Ross JG, Waseem M, Abbas F, Paterson AM. 2019. Assessing subspecies status of leopards (Panthera pardus) of northern Pakistan using mitochondrial DNA. PeerJ 7:e7243 https://doi.org/10.7717/peerj.7243
As a kid I explored the waters of the Marlborough Sounds. I caught my first fish there at seven years old and, one New Year’s day, my biggest snapper weighing about 25 pounds. I have been awed by watching fish and bird feeding frenzies- the food chain in practice. I learnt to dive off boats in emerald waters and spent many evenings watching the sunset and roasting s’mores at an isolated and tranquil DOC campsite. A place we call our “bach”.
But I have never seen a Southern Right Whale, nor an Elephant Seal, or a Waitaha Penguin, in the Marlborough Sounds. Prior to my childhood it was a different Marlborough Sounds. Stephen Urlich and Sean Handley delve into the historical changes of this beautiful location, exploring how food webs have been disrupted since human settlement. The aim of the study was to address knowledge gaps by taking an integrated approach to examining how land use has impacted on coastal ecosystems.
Stephen and Sean focused on keystone species. They traced the history of whaling in Port Underwood, within the Sounds. When John Guard’s first whaling ship entered the harbour in 1828, whales were abundant. Sadly, by 1836, there were 18 vessels sending out 70 whaling boats to chase these majestic creatures. Whaling led to a significant transformation of the Sounds’ ecosystem.
Image by Author- Out in the Sounds
Keystone species, like the Southern Right Whale, play a crucial role in transferring energy within the coastal food web. Their role as ecosystem engineers, essential for habitat formation, was lost by human greed. Sadly, as the authors remind us, the Southern Right Whale was not the first animal hunted by humans in the Sounds. During Maori colonisation, the Elephant Seal, New Zealand Fur Seal, New Zealand Sea Lion, and Waitaha Penguin were all harvested. Hunting led to the decline of the Fur Seal population and the local extinction of the Sea Lion, Elephant Seal, and the Waitaha Penguin.
What is happening to our waterways? Who is responsible for the ongoing transformation of precious natural environments? Us. Once the habitats of the Marlborough Sounds flourished. The study highlights that in the past, there were various subtidal habitats formed by species such as giant kelp forests, as well as communities of hydroids and sponges. As early as 1863 there was dredging for oysters in the Tory Channel and trawling began in 1904. Both of these disturbed the habitat and permanently changed the landscape. Since the 1970s, commercial enterprises of dredging for subtidal green-lipped mussels has been destroying these habitats.
The destruction has continued into my lifetime. For example, in the dramatic 2021 floods , my friends bach slid down a hill. A shocking destruction of a home filled with memories. But the hidden impact of mud slides is far more devastating. Mudslides cause excessive amounts of brown sediment to be displaced from the land, settling in the Sounds and leading to extensive physical disturbance to vulnerable habitats.
Image by Author- Commercial Mussels Farms
But why so brown? Once Europeans arrived the Sounds continued to change. By the 1970s pine plantations had become widespread and clear felling had begun. Harvested and existing forest makes up about 18% of the land surface in the Marlborough Sounds but contributes to around 65% of landslides in 2021 and 2022 (Hart, 2023). Over the last 50 years sediment accumulation rates skyrocketed and continue to remain elevated. This is seen clearly in the Havelock estuary, which increased soft mud habitat by 34 ha from 2001 to 2014. Steep indigenous forested areas also receive this rainfall but are unrepresented in the slip data.
The idea of ecosystem-based management (EBM) is also promoted by Urlich and Handley as a way of improving the catchment management. The suggested aim for Marlborough Sounds would be to restore ecological functions so that biodiversity can be maintained. Marine protection is an important part of EBM in New Zealand. It helps to protect remaining high quality habitat and can help with the recovery of more diverse habitats. With proper management maybe one day we will be able to see the return of more mussel beds and marine mammals.
Is New Zealand really ‘Clean and Green’? Maybe on the surface. But what is happening to habitats in places like the tranquil depths of the Marlborough Sounds? The factors impacting marine habitats are often not well understood. Urlich and Handley suggest that the Marlborough Sounds could rather be referred to ‘brown and down’. This is partially due to the fragmented nature of marine management, where various institutions operate at different scales under diverse legislation.
Image by Author – My campsite “bach”
Urlich and Handley highlight that the current marine protection of the Sounds is inadequate as there is only one fully protected reserve. The management of habitats outside this reserve has become an ongoing legal issue. Since the 1880s, calls for additional marine protection within the Sounds has been disregarded. Conservation effort in the Marlborough Sounds is extremely challenging. This study highlights the urgent need for transformative changes in the Marlborough Sounds. It is suggested that the EBM needs to focus on managing seabed disturbance, reducing sedimentation and including Matauranga Maori ecosystem-based management. The EBM has the opportunity to change the narrative back to clean and green from ‘brown and down’ by providing innovative management (Urlich & Handley, 2020).
Now, when I go out in the Marlborough Sounds, where I was once catching multiple snapper, I am now spending days catching absolutely nothing. With hindsight I need to ask myself: was I part of the problem? Recreational overfishing has contributed to a decline in species.
Additionally, where once I was surrounded by deep blue sea, now it is often a murky mix. It is time for Marlburians, and New Zealanders as a whole, to take responsibility. We don’t want a collapsing, deteriorating ecosystem. We want an ecosystem that thrives. We want to restore ecological resilience. We want generations to come and sit on remote beaches in the Sounds, benefiting from a thriving ecosystem.
This article was prepared by Applied Science Postgraduate Diploma student Hannah Smit as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods Class.
Urlich. S.C., Handley. S.J. (2020). From ‘Clean and Green’ to ‘Brown and Down’: A synthesis of historical changes to biodiversity and marine ecosystems in the Marlborough Sounds New Zealand. Ocean and Coastal Management. https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0964569120302593
Christmas is just around the corner and for many this means that it is time to head to the sea. Beach holidays have long been a tradition for kiwi summers. I was no different while growing up and through my adult life. We spent a lot of time at the little beach village of Kaka Point, at the far northern end of the Catlins, in South Otago.
Not a lot deterred us from hitting the waves. The weather could be a little iffy and the water a little cool but that didn’t matter. You might have a to share the surf with a few other hardy swimmers and the occasional seal but it was bliss. But now I find that I may have been sharing my waves with something slightly more sinister!
Marlene terrorises us by showing that these spiders are all over the world. No beach is safe! She does reassure us that these water arachnids only make up 0.3% of all spiders (although that still seems too many). She reviews the work that has been done to show how spiders, usually very terrestrial, can survive in such a damp environment.
Some have hairs that trap air bubbles around themselves, other can use webs to close off empty shells to keep the air in. Some can go into a coma where they reduce the amount of oxygen required. Inter-tidal species can run away from incoming tides. These traits allow spiders to exploit a habitat that would otherwise be forbidden for them.
The aquatic Dolomedes.
It’s all very fascinating. Spiders have had to change the way they eat, avoid predators, reproduce, move, accommodate extreme temperatures, and cope with water pressure. Marlene summarises the adaptations. It’s a great read.
However, spiders in the sea is not really what you want to think about when you are rushing into the waves, boggie-board in hand. It’s almost a Gollum moment (as the Nazgul fly over him he shouts in horror “Wraiths! Wraiths on wings!”)
“Spiders! Spiders under water!”
Have a great Christmas holiday at the beach!
Adrian Paterson is a lecturer in Pest-Management and Conservation at Lincoln University. He generally likes spiders, but only when he can see them!
It’s Halloween today. Although ‘trick or treating’ has started to catch on over the last couple of decades, Halloween has never been that big a deal here in NZ. Perhaps it’s because it happens in spring when everything is greening up, new life abounds around us, and we are starting to appreciate the lengthening days and warmth. In the northern hemisphere it is the opposite and perhaps lends itself to the sinister, the thinning of the veil between worlds, the slide into the difficult time of the year.
Halloween – a time for ghouls and ghosts.
Most obviously, Halloween is a time for horror movies and themes. Scary images show up on our screens and theatres and aim to frighten us. I’ve often thought that horror does not capture Halloween that well. Halloween is more about fey magics, creatures of legend appearing to drive uncanny bargains, the sense of the other, and perhaps a sense of dread. Horror seems like a small part of this.
To be fair, I am not a horror fan. I am certainly not a gore and blood person. I enjoyed the old Hammer Horror films, was scared by “The exorcist”, and scarred by “The fly” (the old black and white version – “Help me…”). But I have stayed clear of slasher films and probably haven’t seen a full-on horror for, well, for a long time.
What are people horrified by at Halloween? Mostly it is ghouls, witches, zombies, vampires, English rugby referees, and ghosts. But it seems to me that there are plenty of other things to be horrified about.
What’s down that path….? Opportunity or threat?
Cate Macinnis-Ng and a host of authors, including Will Godsoe from Lincoln, have published a paper in the Journal of the Royal Society of New Zealand. In this they look at the potential threats and opportunities with the ongoing change in climate. The neat angle here is that they take perspectives from many different people and apply an ecological method, a horizon-scanning approach, to come up with ten for each.
Most of the benefits revolve around the application of new technologies and the chance for major positive societal changes. The negatives are much more specific, more disease outbreaks, dealing with heat waves, increasing black swan events and so on. It is not difficult to read this and feel a real sense of alarm for the future.
So, if you want some real dread this Halloween day, then this is an article to read. Perhaps under your bed covers with the torch. There are no bumps in the night, no jump cuts, no creepy faces in mirrors (although I guess NZ is a bit like a cabin in the woods).
But there is plenty of dread and horror.
Adrian Paterson is a lecturer at the Department of Pest-management and Conservation, Lincoln University.
Some of them are leafy, some of them flat, and some look like cushions.
They make the forest floor look like a fairyland.
Moss between bricks in front of Ivy Hall, Lincoln University. (Image from Eva Saison)Moss surrounded by render, Lincoln University. (Image from Eva Saison)Moss growing on Ivy Hall facade, Lincoln University. (Image from Eva Saison)
Even better than simply being aesthetically pleasing, mosses have superpowers.
Like Spider-Man, they stick to vertical flat surfaces, decorating walls with adorable green spots. Moss also has another power. I remember walking through the dunes in my hometown of Calais (France), the sound of waves in the background. Suddenly, between the European beachgrass (Ammophilia arenaria) that keeps the sand and dunes in place, I spot a brown patch of dead moss. Dead? Not really. With just a few drops of water on it, the moss revives in a few seconds, turning the brownish-dead area into a bright green patch of life. Just amazing. Tiny dune zombies are coming back to life through water.
Moss shows off its Spider-man skills on Ivy Hall, Lincoln University. (Image from Eva Saison)Dead looking (but not dead at all) moss on a tree. (Image from Eva Saison)
Consequently, moss brings joy to people, or at least to me. However, what role is moss playing in nature?
The study conducted by Rebecca Dollery, Mike Bowie, and Nicholas Dickinson in 2022 helps to answer this question. They were particularly focused on the importance of moss ground cover in a dry shrubland area of New Zealand. They found that moss could be represented as a collector that loves to hoard various things.
First into the hoard is water. Moss absorbs rainwater or humidity from the air. Moss is almost always wet when touched. The water is then used by the moss. The soil benefits from the waterlogged moss cover: in summer, soil is wetter under the moss carpet. The moss acts as a protective layer for the soil against the summer heat, allowing retention of water in the soil. The water is later used by the surrounding plants. In a dry shrubland environment, moss can have a positive effect on other native plants populating the area.
Second into the hoard are soil nutrients. All plants need them to grow. One of the most important nutrients is nitrogen (N). It can be found in soil and absorbed by the plants in two forms: nitrate (NO3–) and ammonium (NH4+) molecules. With the ground covered by a moss carpet, the quantity of nitrate and ammonium in the soil decreased, up to 75% for the latter. In addition, the thicker the moss, the lower the amount of nitrate. Therefore, moss not only absorbs water but also sequesters essential nutrients. The nitrogen is trapped within the moss.
This sounds alarming: moss is taking away the necessary food source of all other plants. However, this is not a tragedy for the dry shrubland environment. Indeed, their soil is low in nutrients under normal circumstances. Consequently, the plants growing there are adapted to these conditions. On the contrary and surprisingly, they might even suffer from a large increase in soil nutrients. The moss carpet thus preserves the original composition of the soil, which is also the optimum growing condition for plants native to dry shrublands.
Third into the hoard are the seeds that fall and are stored within the moss layer. The researchers tested the impact of moss ground cover on the ability of some native species to germinate. Generally, moss cover prevents germination: fewer seeds germinate than on bare ground. The scientists supposed that the seeds did not germinate because they were in the dark, after falling into the depth of the moss layer. This was mostly observed with tauhinu (Pomaderris amoena) and kānuka (Kunzea serotina) (the species name was revised back to Kunzea ericoides in 2023). Both suffered a 60% reduction of their germination capacity.
The seeds of the common broom (Carmichaelia australis) can germinate in the dark. For this species, the high humidity within the moss could be the reason why seeds germinated up to 88% less often with moss ground cover. Nevertheless, some seeds germinated and became seedlings. Their next step was to have their roots access the soil to absorb nutrients. The scientists observed that more common broom seedlings survived on the bare ground than with ground moss cover. The moss layer probably acted as a barrier between the roots and the soil. Despite that, the seedlings of common broom and tauhinu that germinated with moss were up to 3 times heavier than the ones from bare soil. This indicates that the conditions provided by the moss cover have had a positive impact on their growth.
Rebecca and the team identified the moss as a plant that loves to stockpile things: first water, then nitrogen, and finally seeds. The various impacts of the collecting moss were in some ways beneficial for the native plants of the dry shrubland ecosystem. They were, however, detrimental towards exotic and invasive weeds. These invasive species suffer from the low nutrients in the soil and the difficulties of germinating within the moss layer. Moss, therefore, participates in the conservation of native plants in the dry shrubland ecosystem.
A very interesting name can be added to the “things collected by moss” list: carbon (C). Sphagnum moss are one of the main components of peatlands. In these ecosystems more vegetation is growing than is decomposing, thus vegetation, including moss, is gradually accumulated as layers of peat. Furthermore, when plants are growing, they absorb CO2 from the atmosphere, they keep the carbon to form sugar and release oxygen (O2). Therefore, peatlands are trapping carbon in their vegetation, in their moss. Larmola and colleagues (2014) calculated that one-third of the total amount of carbon stocked on land is trapped in peatlands!
After all those discoveries, I continue to love and admire moss. I will carry on watching the moss turn green again in the dunes and taking naps on forest moss. Those tiny superheroes decorate my city pavement and walls, promote native plant species in New Zealand’s dry shrublands and trap carbon from the atmosphere, as little fighters against global warming.
Dollery, R., Bowie, M. H., & Dickinson, N. M. (2022). The ecological importance of moss ground cover in dry shrubland restoration within an irrigated agricultural landscape matrix. Ecology and Evolution, 12(4). https://doi.org/10.1002/ece3.8843
Heenan, P. B., McGlone, M. S., Mitchell, C. M., McCarthy, J. K., & Houliston, G. J. (2023). Genotypic variation, phylogeography, unified species concept, and the ‘grey zone’ of taxonomic uncertainty in kānuka: Recognition of Kunzea ericoides (A.Rich.) Joy Thomps. sens. lat. (Myrtaceae). New Zealand Journal of Botany, 0(0), 1–30. https://doi.org/10.1080/0028825X.2022.2162427
Larmola, T., Leppänen, S. M., Tuittila, E.-S., Aarva, M., Merilä, P., Fritze, H., & Tiirola, M. (2014). Methanotrophy induces nitrogen fixation during peatland development. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 111(2), 734–739. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1314284111
During my time studying at Lincoln University I have noticed that there is a lack of Mātauranga Māori in our research and study methods. This lack of recognition for the value of Māori methods is concerning, although this could be related to the high demand for Māori academics throughout the country.
Understanding how to incorporate cultural methods into research holds the potential to generate a greater understanding of unique ecosystems in New Zealand. There are many different methods and systems from Māori culture that can be used within research to help describe and understand the data being collected. Mātauranga Māori is a knowledge system that incorporates a Māori philosophical thought, world view and practice. Kaitiakitanga is described as a place-based customary responsibilities and practices of Māori who have a genealogical history that connects them to the land and it embeds a vital link between Māori and Papatuanuku (Earth Mother).
Science knowledge underpins a large part of our day-to-day lives, and it’s questions encourage us to learn about the world we live in. Indigenous cultures have an advantage (to some degree of course) with their understanding of the land they inhabit, as their ancestors have spent centuries gathering information from medicine, food and historic events that directly relate to the land. Unfortunately, due to the dominance of traditional and classic research methods in science, much of this information has been disregarded and suppressed.
Amanda Black from Lincoln University, along with lead author Tara McAllister and others, co-wrote a paper (published in 2020) deciphering Mātauranga Māori in New Zealand ecology. Her article discusses the benefits of understanding and incorporating Māori knowledge and practices in research cases. Indigenous knowledge and connections to the land and marine environments offer deep temporal and spatial insights that can reshape our understanding of biodiversity. Such knowledge can also help us to create new pathways to halt or slow the rate of biodiversity loss.
The use of Mātauranga Māori within research allows us to re-shape our current understanding of the environment and provides improvements to address pressing environmental issues. ‘Two-eyed seeing’ is a metaphor that is used to assist people in conceptualising indigenous and western knowledge systems and to combine them in various ways that provide important insight for research.
Using this system can enhance ecosystem management throughout New Zealand. For example, assigning legal personhood status to a natural ecosystem (such as when the New Zealand Parliament assigned the Whanganui River legal personhood) aligns with how Māori view themselves – an integral part of the ecosystem. Legal personhood provides a framework where activities of exploitation need to be evaluated against the impacts on the ecological health of the system as a whole.
Ecosystems as legal identities could provide a flexible and durable alternative to the current approach of regarding ecosystems and their natural services as ‘free’, which has led to their gradual decline. This is where the Kaitiakitanga system is important. It is the responsibility of everybody residing within New Zealand to understand how the speed and scale of urban and agricultural landscape change disrupts the relationship between people and their lands. The loss of links to nature has the possibility to damage the health and well-being of urban Māori (and all New Zealanders).
The recurrent theme of the paper is the importance of co-development and co-creation of research through effective partnerships with Māori. The paper recognises that there is a lack of interaction with Māori regarding research. It also illustrates the need for scientists to move beyond a research process that involves either no or one-off consultation with Māori to a process that acknowledges Māori as Treaty partners.
Being able to incorporate understandings from multiple knowledge systems is vital for a thorough understanding of the natural world, which is crucial in advancing the science of ecology within New Zealand. Understanding the indigenous knowledge systems/Mātauranga Māori of New Zealand and incorporating it into research priorities will improve the overall findings for researchers as they will have a more informed background of their area of study.
The author Janie Kersten is a postgraduate student in the Postgraduate Diploma in Applied Sciencetaught at Lincoln University. This article was written as an assessment for ECOL 608 Research Methods in Ecology.
