Category: Species distributions

  • Bellbird Babel: Dialect differences in NZ bellbirds

    Bellbird Babel: Dialect differences in NZ bellbirds

    Bellbirds love to sing; they sing for everything that they do. Communicating, courtship, foraging, defending their homes, it’s almost like they’re living in a musical. I’ve always been captivated by the song of bellbirds. Whether I’m on a walk in the Port Hills, or at Willowbank Wildlife Reserve looking at the capybara and otters, I hear bellbirds singing in the background.

    The New Zealand Bellbird, or Anthornis melanura, is a honeyeater species and a close relative of New Zealand’s Tūī (Prosthemadera novaeseelandiae). They have a variable diet, feeding primarily on nectar, but also fruits, insects, and scale insect honeydew. In Christchurch, bellbirds spend their summers in the Port Hills, feeding from the large nectar supplies that come from flowering native vegetation. Then, in the winter, some move to the city, where urbanisation creates a warmer environment, and sugar feeders and exotic plantings provide food.

    In 2019, PhD student Jennifer Dent studied foraging and migratory patterns of bellbirds in Christchurch for her thesis, using their calls to determine where different groups were. Bellbirds in different areas make different calls, basically a different accent, language, or singing a song in a different key, and this is referred to as dialect.

    New Zealand Bellbird. Photo CC0 Max G.W. Verheij. https://www.inaturalist.org/observations/162255122

    For this, Jennifer placed DOC AR4 audio recorders at 59 locations. 29 locations were in the Port Hills, where recording took place in autumn. Sites were everywhere from Rapanui Bush in the east to Ahuriri Reserve in the west, totalling 15 km around the Port Hills. The other 30 recording locations were in Christchurch city during winter, from as far north as the Groynes, as far east as Sumner, and as far west and south as Lincoln. From this, Jennifer matched dialects in the Port Hills in autumn to those recorded in Christchurch city in winter.

    Christchurch dialects

    Jennifer found four different bellbird dialects in Christchurch.

    Dialect A was the most common dialect. It was spread across the northern region of the Port Hills, as well as in more central areas, such as the Botanic Gardens.

    Dialect B was the next most common. In the Port Hills, it was found in Kennedy’s Bush, and in the city, it was in south-western areas, such as Halswell and Hoon Hay.

    Dialect C was the least common dialect that Jennifer observed. In the Port Hills, it was found in Omahu Bush, and in Christchurch, it was found outside of the city, but only as far as Tai Tapu and Lincoln.

    Dialect D was the last dialect. This pattern is unusual because it was not found in the autumn Port Hills recordings, but was found in the winter Christchurch recordings around the eastern and northern parts of Christchurch, such as Sumner, the Groynes, and Riccarton Bush, but because it was not found in the autumn recordings, it is not known where they went after winter.

    Map of Dialect Locations in Christchurch. Photo CC-BY Jennifer Dent https://researcharchive.lincoln.ac.nz/server/api/core/bitstreams/82c22265-dec3-419b-8880-4eb37f1aaee2/content

    Why don’t the dialects overlap?

    It’s surprising that four different dialects were found both so close together and with very little overlap, especially since there are no geographic barriers stopping members of one group from flying to another. Jenny suggested that there could be two main reasons for this: limited dispersal and vocal imitation.

    Limited dispersal, or philopatry, is the theory that states that birds remain in the areas where they were born and raised perhaps because it is harder to survive outside their own groups. A second theory is that vocal imitation by bellbirds occurs when birds move between groups, but we don’t notice it because they are so quick to pick up on the new dialect. It is possible that both of these theories are occurring simultaneously.

    Following bellbirds into the city

    The presence of all Port Hills dialects in the Christchurch recordings suggests that seasonal dispersal from the Port Hills to Christchurch is a shared behaviour among all populations. Furthermore, as shown by the map, dispersing to the nearest suitable location rather than spreading across all of Christchurch also seems to be a shared behaviour.

    Bellbirds in Christchurch likely remember foraging areas for different times of the year, but rather than remembering many locations across Christchurch, they remember only a few patches that are close together. This is referred to as patch-scale resource tracking, and it has been shown to be a low-work, high-reward technique for foraging by bellbirds.

    Next time you hear a bellbird singing, you aren’t just hearing background noise, you’re hearing a local neighbour. That bellbird might be a Cashmere regular or a member of the Tai Tapu community. It makes Christchurch a more lively city, as it’s not only just a place for us, but for birds following their own routines, singing their songs as they go about their day.

    This article was prepared by Master of Science student Max Mulvihill as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Paper reference: Dent, J. M. (2019). Information use during foraging by New Zealand bellbirds (Anthornis melanura) : A thesis submitted in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy at Lincoln University. Lincoln University. https://researcharchive.lincoln.ac.nz/server/api/core/bitstreams/82c22265-dec3-419b-8880-4eb37f1aaee2/content

  • Fake terns for real conservation change

    Fake terns for real conservation change

    Not just for ducks

    For myself, a plastic decoy is first, and foremost, synonymous with hunting. Perhaps to some this hobby seems counterintuitive coming from an ecologist, but rest assured, we pride ourselves on habitat protection and pest population management (with the added benefit of free-range tucker).

    Over years of game-bird chasing, I have put out dozens of decoys. Never once did it cross my mind that a tool like them could be used for conservation.

    But when you think about it critically, why would decoys not be useful? Decoys and callers are first and foremost attractants, playing on the target species’ keen senses and basic behavioural responses. As ecologists, we already familiar with attractants. The tried and true Pics peanut butter bait in tracking tunnels, enticing a wiry old possum to investigate, or the sprinkling of icing sugar in front of a wax tag, are very common in our conservation landscape.

    Black-fronted terns (Chlidonias albostriatus)- credit Carey Knox (CC0 no rights reserved)

    Social attraction – when decoys come into play

    Species of birds that live within colonies use cues from peers to gauge habitat quality. To put it plainly, think of it like a review on a hotel. You’re probably more likely to go to one that your mate rated higher, right? So if your bird mates hang out in an area then this is probably a sign that it is a great place for a nest. These cues have the added benefit for colony birds of improved breeding success and survival.

    Historically, conservation for colony-forming birds, such as the Kororā and Black-fronted tern in New Zealand, has underused this behaviour, relying heavily on predator control and habitat enhancement instead. These techniques are both particularly costly and need extensive upkeep for continued positive results. How about instead of focusing on getting the number of living birds up, we focus first on increasing the number of their plastic alternatives? … Have conservationists lost their minds? Quite the opposite.

    Benefits of social attractants

    Social attractants, such as decoys and audio players, can work effectively to encourage threatened species to inhabit more desirable areas. Decoys can mimick the cues that gauge habitat quality by colony-forming birds.

    By actively encouraging individuals to inhabit these areas, this may reduce the number of birds attempting to nest in more dangerous locations. Those dangerous places could include a particularly low-lying section of coast where nests would be swept away during severe weather events, or an area without predator control.

    Attractants could be used in combination with predator-proof fences, weeding and predator control, to create nesting sanctuaries. This is particularly useful for our more aeronautically inclined natives that are not confined by fencing, as opposed to their flightless counterparts. Nests and attractants would give them a reason to stay within these safe havens, which would improve survival and breeding success.

    For our rarer species, social attractants may further aid breeding success by encouraging a higher number of individuals into a particular area. This would help boost reproduction rates due to more breeding-age adults being close together.

    Illustration by Author (CC0 no rights reserved)

    Trialing social attractants for black-fronted tern conservation

    Social attractants were used in a Lincoln University study to identify their effects on black-fronted terns (Chlidonias albostriatus). This study was completed by Courtney Hamblin in 2019.

    The types of social attractants that Courtney used included a sound anchor system, which played a variety of black-fronted tern calls, including fishing, begging, and kit calls, on a looped playback. Her study also used plastic decoys as visual attractants.

    Courtney’s experiment used nine braided rivers within the Canterbury region, with ten locations each for both untreated (without attractants) and treated (with attractants) sites.

    First up, Courtney needed to pick her sites on these braided rivers. She selected sites that best fit tern nesting, but without terns having nested there before. She also wanted the sites to be safe for terns to nest at if they chose to do so. It wouldn’t have been a good look if nests had started floating away!

    Courtney then compared tern behaviour between sites with and without attractants. To do this, patience had to be a virtue. Over fortnightly 1-hour sessions for each site, she looked for interactions, particularly terns circling/hovering over these areas, landing within plots (land-in) and landing close by (land-out).

    Diagram of the audio playback setup (Above) and example of a decoy used in the project (Below). Photo credits – Courtney Hamblin (CC BY – NC 4.0)

    When the study had concluded, Courtney, and her supervisors Adrian Paterson (LU), James Ross (LU) and Richard Maloney (DoC), found that there was over nine times more activity recorded within plots with attractants than within plots that lacked any attractants.

    Black-fronted tern nesting was also found to have occurred near eight out of ten treated sites. Of these, five sites had terns nesting within 300 m, which was significantly closer than distances from the untreated sites.

    Unfortunately for me, as they were used together, there was no speculation on whether the decoys or the audio playback setup had the greater effect. So for now, I won’t be trading in my trusty wooden duck caller for a fancy electronic apparatus.

    These results show that black-fronted terns do interact with social attractants. They could be useful for black-fronted tern conservation by helping to attract individuals into desirable areas to nest.

    So social attractants could provide us with huge gains for black-fronted tern conservation, now that we understand all their neat uses!

    Diagram of the treated plot – note there would be an equally sized area used for the untreated plots without decoys and speakers. Credit – Courtney Hamblin (CC BY – NC 4.0)

    So what are the opportunities for social attractants? Endless!

    Social attractants already have success stories. A notable win was their use in helping to restore the iconic Atlantic puffin to Eastern Egg Rock in Maine. But let’s ponder the future.

    Think about the possibilities, such as their use in protecting species against climate change effects. Social attractants could readily be employed to move nesting locations away from at-risk coastal areas or encourage nesting within predator-proof sanctuaries to avoid exotic threats that are likely to arrive in New Zealand ecosystems.

    Final thoughts

    Even with all the prospective benefits, the study also made me think about issues that may arise with social attractants. Sure, they encourage some native colony birds to interact with them, but would this not be the same for native/exotic predators? They too key off cues from their target species, such as sounds and visuals.

    This sparks memories of harriers circling over my decoys, ready to pounce on any shot birds, as if they were using my decoys as a marker for a prospective feast.

    To me, this was a particularly poignant thought, which I would love to see investigated.

    This article was prepared by Master’s of Bio protection student, Jonathan Morriss, as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Hamblin, C., Paterson, A., Ross, J., Maloney, R. (2019). Social Attractants, a Conservation Tool for Black‐Fronted Terns. Wildlife Society Bulletin. 1-8. https://doi.org/10.1002/wsb.989

    Additional Information:

    Bonbaci, S., Pejchar, L., Innes, J. (2018). Fenced sanctuaries deliver conservation benefits for most common and threatened native island birds In New Zealand. Ecosphere. 9(11). https://doi.org/10.1002/ecs2.2497

    Buxton, V., Enos, J., Sperry, J., Ward, M. (2020). A review of conspecific attraction for habitat selection across taxa. Ecology and Evolution. 10(23). 12690–12699. 10.1002/ece3.6922

    Handley, S. (2022). Technical options for marine coastal habitat restoration in Te Tauihu. NIWA. https://www.envirolink.govt.nz/assets/Envirolink/2203-MLDC161-Technical-options-for-marine-coastal-habitat-restoration-in-Te-Tauihu.pdf

    Herrera-Giraldo, J., Figuerola-Hernández, C., Wolf, C., Colón-Merced, R., Ventosa-Febles, E., Silander, S., Holmes, N. (2021). The use of social attraction techniques to restore seabird colonies on Desecheo Island, Puerto Rico. Ecological Solutions and Evidence. 2(2). https://doi.org/10.1002/2688-8319.12058

    Lapin, K., Konrad, H., Leeb, C., Oettel, J. (2025). Species on the Move: Migration, Range Shifts, and Dispersal of Species. Ecological Connectivity of Forest Ecosystems. 23-38. https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-3-031-82206-3_2

    Taylor, G. (2000). Action Plan for Seabird Conservation in New Zealand. Department of Conservation. 16. https://www.doc.govt.nz/documents/science-and-technical/tsop16.pdf

  • It’s not you, it’s your species: Mate choice in fishing spiders

    It’s not you, it’s your species: Mate choice in fishing spiders

    Dating is hard and confusing for most… but especially for these guys.

    A recent study on two native semi aquatic spiders, Dolomedes aquaticus and Dolomedes minor, revealed that spider dating is dramatic, but beneficial for their evolution. These spider species spend a lot of time diving for their prey in rivers and streams.

    Male fishing spiders (Dolomedes species) perform complex courtship displays for their partners, which include vibratory, visual, and chemical signals, all just to avoid being killed by the female they are trying to impress, and just so he gets the opportunity to copulate.

    D. aquaticus at Boyle River. Photo by Nicky Lowther (CC BY-NC)

    Unfortunately for these eight-legged boys, their ladies are often aggressive, sexual cannibalism common, and dates often making up a significant portion of these feisty ladies diets.

    These fishing spider species are found throughout New Zealand. In a particular area in the lower South Island, something interesting is going on… they are hybridising!… but only in one direction.

    DNA analysis has revealed that mitochondrial introgression has occurred between D. aquaticus females and D. minor males. Introgression is when DNA moves from one species to another. But why, and why only one way? This study investigated the one way introgression between these two species, coauthored by one of New Zealand’s preeminent arachnologists, the one and only Cor Vink.

    These species are closely related and have been observed to interbreed. This causes genes from one species to pass to the other; this process is called introgression. Introgression between these species has only been observed in one direction between female D. aquaticus and male D. minor. Introgression has also only been seen in one location, in the south of the South Island, the “introgression zone.”

    Distribution of D. aquaticus and D. minor within New Zealand, with introgressed D. minor specimens shown. Data from Vink and Dupérré
2010 and Lattimore et al 2011. Also shows collection locations of spiders for laboratory experiments, and Waipara field monitoring site. The introgression
zone is shown by the square box.
    Distribution of Dolomedes aquaticus and D. minor within New Zealand, with introgressed D. minor specimens shown. Data from Vink and Dupérré 2010 and Lattimore et al 2011. Also shows collection locations of spiders for laboratory experiments, and Waipara field monitoring site. The introgression zone is shown by the square box. (Content subject to copyright: please see the study image notes for details)

    The purpose of this study was to investigate life history traits and mating behaviour that promoted and limited introgression that occurs only one way and is limited to one area.

    Spiders were collected from within and outside the introgression zone and mating behaviour was tested in a lab.

    From these experiments, it was found that males from outside the introgression zone were less willing to continue courtship once realising the female was of a different species from themselves, often ghosting halfway through, an experience familiar to those of us in the dating pool. On the other hand, D. minor males within the introgression zone were happy to flirt with any female. This unfussy selection seems familiar. Whether this is a spider phenomenon or a southern cultural trait remains unclear.

    Another interesting find was that female D. minor were more short tempered when it comes to D. aquaticus males, having much higher attack and rejection rates towards D. aquaticus males than the opposite pairing. When a D. aquaticus male attempted courtship, the females often attacked and ate him. This suggests the differences in female behaviour between the two species may have just as much influence on gene flow as mate choice.

    Female receptiveness to male courtship is key for introgression to occur, including female ability to recognise male courtship, female choice, and premating aggressive behaviour, these could all prevent interbreeding in ways that could vary throughout the species’ range.

    Pairings were more successful if the pairings were similar in size. Females in both species are much larger than males, although D. aquaticus is larger overall. It was suggested that one way introgression could be because a female D. aquaticus assumes that a smaller male would be an easier snack, not a great mate!

    D. aquaticus at Boyle River. Photo by Nicky Lowther (CC BY-NC)

    Other potential factors could include that partners in the south could be less choosy in their mate selection as their breeding seasons may be shorter due to natural conditions. D. aquaticus females may think males of their species are rarer, or D. aquaticus male and D. minor female genitalia may not be compatible.

    In summary, it is likely that mating behaviour has a strong influence on the dynamics of introgression gene transfer between these species within the introgression zone.

    Male behaviour may limit introgression one way, preventing mating between D. minor females and D. aquaticus males. Also, female behaviour and choice may limit introgression because of a preference: mate or meal?

    In the end, these spiders prove one thing: rejection is natural selection, and preference is important in evolution. So, next time you have a bad date, consider yourself grateful that your rejection did not end in sexual cannibalism. 🕷️

    This article was prepared by Master of Bioprotection student  Nicky Lowther as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course

    Connolly, S. J., Hunt, J., Curtis, K. M., Painting, C. J., Cooney, C., & Vink, C. (2025). Mating behaviour influences the direction and geographic extent of introgression in New Zealand fishing spiders (Dolomedes). Journal of Evolutionary Biology38(3), 291–304. https://doi.org/10.1093/jeb/voae147  

  • The shrubland invasion: What’s driving it?

    The shrubland invasion: What’s driving it?

    Plant communities dominated by mānuka/kāhikatoa (Leptospermum species)or kānuka (Kunzea species) are an extremely common feature of New Zealand’s native biodiversity. They are found in all manner of shapes, sizes, and habitats – dry and wet, high and low, warm and cold. We’ll call these communities ‘shrublands‘ throughout this text. Reality is much more complex with other types of native shrublands made up of different plant species as well as kānuka and mānuka also forming forests or scrub. There’s a great piece here if you want some more details.

    If you’ve ever bashed through young, dense, mānuka/kānuka shrublands whilst out tramping you might have noticed they aren’t very diverse. That’s because during this young phase they form such a thick canopy and dense shade that other plants find it difficult to establish. Once these stands age the canopy opens up and lets light in allowing other species to take off.

    A natural landscape featuring a mixture of shrubs and grassy terrain, with a mountainous background under a cloudy sky.
    The weed Spanish heath (Erica lusitanica), the lighter yellow-brown plants near the ground, invading gaps in mānuka (Leptospermum scoparium var. scoparium) shrubland on Bealey Spur. Photo Will Todhunter

    These shrublands are important for our native biodiversity. Some are remnants from before humans arrived. Others have expanded following human induced forest clearance and subsequent regeneration. These regenerating shrublands are what we call seral, an intermediate stage in ecological succession.

    Succession occurs when an intact ecosystem is disturbed and doesn’t immediately go back to its final climax vegetation. Instead subsequent vegetation communities gradually replace one another until a climax, or stable, state is reached. Under the right set of conditions kānuka and mānuka can shade out introduced grass species and support a transition of landscapes back to native forest.

    Banks Peninsula has many classic examples of this phenomenon, and if you go for a walk up Bowenvale Valley, in Christchurch, you should be able to spot large areas of planted kānuka where Christchurch City Council is trying to jumpstart this process.

    Including these shrubland species, Aotearoa has a grand total of 2,522 native vascular plant species. This total is far outnumbered by the staggering amount of introduced plant species, with at least 24,744.

    In many cases introduced plants can establish in the wild and invade natural ecosystems, including native shrublands. We will call these invasive introduced species weeds. These exotic weeds can negatively impact our biodiversity, displacing native plants and changing the ways our ecosystems function. Weed invasion has been well studied in forest and grassland ecosystems in New Zealand, but less so in shrublands. It is important to understand what drives weeds to invade shrublands, as this can help guide us when considering actions to protect these habitats.

    Laureline Rossignaud and Philip Hulme are researchers from Lincoln University who focus their research efforts on biological invasions, including weeds. They looked at information from 247 monitoring plots placed within shrublands across the country to better understand weed invasion into these habitats. Many studies have already investigated whether the number of native plant species in an ecosystem is related to weed invasions, but few studies have also considered the influence of climate, landscape features and the structure of the plant community in question. So, when this pair dived deeper into this topic, what did they find?

    Both the number of different species (species richness) and the size of the area covered by a species (its cover) play a role, but they don’t always align. Some shrublands had high numbers of species with low cover, whilst others had low numbers of exotic species but these were high in cover. This second example can be seen when a few aggressive weeds dominate.

    Dense forest scene with bare trees and lush green undergrowth.
    Shrubland on Banks Peninsula. Photo by Will Todhunter CC BY

    Low species richness, high species cover. The above image captures this, showing vegetation in a mature kānuka stand on Banks Peninsula. An open canopy of kānuka sits above a lower tier of native saplings of māhoe (Melicytus ramiflorus subsp. ramiflorus), poroporo (Solanum laciniatum) and kawakawa (Piper excelsum subsp. excelsum), and a dense ground cover of the highly invasive exotic veldt grass (Ehrharta erecta). The veldt grass forms such dense mats that it limits the establishment of most other plants and was once voted NZ’s worst weed!

    A clear takeaway from the study was that the physical structure of shrublands plays a big role in determining how susceptible they are to exotic plants. Shrublands with dense canopies and multiple layers of vegetation act like a shield, limiting open ground and leaving less space for weeds. Shrublands with open areas let in more sunlight and have more available options for weeds to gain a foothold.

    The surrounding land cover and land use heavily influenced weed invasions. Where shrublands were close to human modified landscapes ,weed invasion increased, and the same when shrublands were close to rivers. Modified landscapes typically had a higher number of weed species, providing a seed source that can then move into more natural areas.

    Size and shape of shrublands matters. Shrublands with long edges experienced higher levels of weed invasion, with edges often having more disturbance and being more accessible to invaders. This is known as an “edge effect“. Topography is another contributor, with lower and flatter areas more invaded than those that are steep and/or at higher elevation

    Unsurprisingly, climate also played a major role. Warmer temperatures were shown to increase weed invasion, and many introduced plants thrived in mild conditions. The expansion of suitable habitat ranges of weeds through a warming climate is yet another reason to be concerned about climate change!

    Scrubland on Onawe Peninsula, Banks Peninsula. Photo by Adrian Paterson

    Lastly, these researchers found that no single factor could fully explain weed invasion, it’s all about a combination of various factors. Something that readers might have expected.

    Through my work in conservation I’ve been lucky enough to spend time in a range of shrublands. Some of the most special are the fragmented remains of the once extensive kanuka drylands of the Canterbury Plains, such as Motukānuka Scientific Reserve. Research has found that intensive land use change adjacent to these remnants has strongly contributed to increased weed invasion on the edges. Irrigation changing water availability and increased nitrogen availability from surrounding farms were attributed as two of the main drivers here.

    There’s a couple things we can learn from these studies when thinking about protecting shrublands. To reduce the impacts of exotic plant invasion, the larger the area of shrubland the better. Dense, structurally rich vegetation is going to be more resilient to invasion. However, often small fragments of biodiversity are all that are left to work with, so factoring in a buffer from surrounding land use then becomes important.

    In many situations active management of weeds, such as physical control using herbicide, is essential to protect native species and ecosystem function’s from their impacts.

    So now that you know a bit more about shrublands, keep an eye out for some of the features discussed here. Keep learning about the native and introduced plants of New Zealand, and get out there with the right people and deal to some weeds!

    This article was prepared by Will Todhunter, Postgraduate Diploma in Applied Science student, for an assignment in ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology.

    Rossignaud, L., & Hulme, P. E. (2023). Native vegetation structure, landscape features and climate shape non-native plant richness and cover in New Zealand native shrublands. Diversity and Distributions, 29(8), 1009–1020. https://doi.org/10.1111/ddi.13713

  • Kiwi: now in 3D

    Kiwi: now in 3D

    ‘Coming soon in 3D!’ Periodically throughout my life movie-makers have dabbled with making films that we can watch in three dimensions. You would get your special glasses before the movie session and then sit there wondering when to put them on until the action got going.

    To be honest I don’t remember many of the movies that I saw like this. The Avatar movies have always had the option and I watched at least the second movie this way. Spears and monsters would lunge out of the screen at you.

    Other than that I am drawing a blank. This is not to say that every 3D movie is bad but just that 3D on its own doesn’t make a film more memorable.

    Avatar Adrian! Look out for the arrow!

    I don’t even dislike the experience despite having to wear the 3D glasses over my own glasses. There is something immersive about dodging things ‘coming out of the screen’. However, I seldom choose this option if 2D is available. It all seems a bit too much like work perhaps?

    Adding a third dimension can help with appreciating scale and movement though. It can also help with identifying who’s who in the screen – there’s just a bit more information that your brain can use.

    Identifying individuals is a big deal in biology, especially conservation. When you have a small population you are interested in individuals. How are they doing? Are they breeding? Who do they hang out with?

    Of course, for many species there are not a lot of features to differentiate between individuals. They are similar in height, uniform in coloration, and have similar behaviours.

    To make them more distinctive we could always band our target with bright colours or paint an obvious mark on them but this involves capturing and interacting with the individual. This causes a great deal of stress and catching individuals is not always simple.

    Ideally we could use cameras to take pictures that we could measure features in that are unique to an individual. Two dimensional pictures require an individual to be in an exact place with an exact orientation for this to work. So this is not a reliable method.

    Bit wait! … Coming soon in 3D!

    It turns out that if you take pictures with different devices from slightly different angles at the same moment then you can much more accurately calculate measurements on individuals. At least in theory.

    Jane Tansell with her trusty kiwi dog. Picture from Jane Tansell.

    Jane Tansell, a recently completed PhD student at Lincoln University, and her supervisors, Adrian Paterson and James Ross, set out to see if we could use this idea to identify kiwi. Kiwi populations and individuals are difficult to measure. They are nocturnal, usually found in scrubby terrain, are reasonably featureless, and spend a lot of time in burrows. We can use trained dogs to find them but this is quite stressful for kiwi. We can listen to their calls during the night but this is difficult to split into different individuals and certain parts of the population don’t call anyway.

    Trail cameras have been used to successfully locate kiwi. Jane wondered if she could pair cameras 12-25 cm apart, taking images that could be used to essentially create a 3D image of features on each bird. Jane knew that kiwi bills vary between individuals and can be used as an ID.

    Jane worked with the more technically literate Maurice Kasprowsky and Tom Gray to cobble together the cameras and get them to work together.

    Jane, as reported in NZ Journal of Zoology, first tried the setup on a taxidermied kiwi in good light conditions. She found that the cameras could be used to measure the bills to within 1.5% of their actual length. This was a great achievement and would certainly be able to determine individuals.

    In theory we should be able to photograph kiwi and recognise them by measuring their bills. Image from Adrian Paterson.

    Jane then set up field trials with live kiwi. In the real world, with low light and moving birds the cameras were less efficient. At worst they were terrible but often they were within 3-4% of the actual bill length. This is not good enough to replace current field identification methods but it was still quite impressive given the relatively jury-rigged setup.

    Improvements in cameras, especially 3D cameras, are happening quite quickly. With some more trial and error Jane should be able to start reducing the error enough for this to be a viable noninvasive method for following kiwi in the field.

    While this is not as exciting as an arrow flying at you from an Avatar movie, this use of 3D does have real world uses that will help with understanding a national icon!

    The author, Adrian Paterson, is a lecturer in the Department of Pest-management and Conservation at Te Whare Wānaka o Aoraki Lincoln University. Adrian is a kiwi but unfortunately has no bill to measure.

  • The three bird-iteers: all for monitoring and monitoring for all!

    The three bird-iteers: all for monitoring and monitoring for all!

    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.

    Now to the fun stuff – birds!!

    In Jon’s study there was a focus on three bird species, which I call the three bird-iteers (with apologies to Alexandre Dumas). These are the grey warbler, fantail and the bellbird. These endemic birds are very adaptable to recent changes for forest bird species.

    Grey Warbler

    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.

    Grey Warbler (Gerygone igata)

    Grey Warbler. Photo CC BY Mikullashbee, Flickr

    Fantail/pīwakawaka

    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

    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

    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.

    Sullivan,JJ(2012). Recording birds in real time: a convenient method for frequent bird recording https://researcharchive.lincoln.ac.nz/server/api/core/bitstreams/04dc8df3-2e34-4fe9-96a6-ea8a505ad0cc/content

  • Amaizing distribution: nematode infestations of NZ corn

    Amaizing distribution: nematode infestations of NZ corn

    Are your maize plants growing well in the field? If not,we can often blame plant parasitic nematodes.

    There are around 4100 known species of nematodes and they cause a considerable loss of agricultural produce, with estimated global crop damage of $US 358 billion every year.

    The life cycle of these plant parasitic nematodes have four stages, and the second-stage juvenile (J2) is the destructive phase. Most nematodes are sedentary inside the host and others survive in the soil.

    Written by Sambath in behavior, conservation, front page profile, invasive species, student blog, Uncategorized, zoology, pest management

    In the 2021/22 NZ growing season, about 196,000 tonnes of grain and 1,200,00 tonnes of silage were harvested, making maize one of the most cultivable crops in New Zealand. Around 58% of the harvest was grown for livestock feed demand, and the remaining 42% was for food and industrial processors.

    Plant parasitic nematodes are common in New Zealand and many horticulture industries have experienced a substantial loss of profits from these destructive plant pests. While maize is one of the most crucial crops in this country reported to be damaged by various species of nematodes, few studies have been conducted here compared to other countries.

    So, Nagarathanam Thiruchchelvan, a PhD student at Lincoln University, and his team conducted research to identify and quantify plant parasitic nematode infestations of maize production across New Zealand. Their purpose was to investigate the prevalence and diversity of several genera of plant parasitic nematodes.

    Plant parasitic nematode feeding types. Image from Paulo Vieira & Cynthia Gleason

    The researchers collected a total of 384 composite soil samples from 25 maize fields located in the North and South Islands, focusing on: Canterbury, Waikato, and Manawatu-Whanganui. Data collection was carried out at various maize growing stages and seasons during 2022.

    It was not good news!

    The researchers found that at least one genus of plant parasitic nematode was detected in 378 (98%) of the maize samples. Pratylenchus was the most prevalent and widespread genus (91%) followed by Helicotylenchus (38%).

    Plant parasitic nematode. Image from Scot Nelson

    The plant parasitic nematode population and diversity were higher in Canterbury than in Waikato and Manawatu-Whanganui. Thiru and his team believed that the inconsistent distribution was caused by different climate and geography conditions between the two regions. For example, the South Island is more diverse in soil physiochemical proportions than the North Island.

    Thiru also observed that soil orders, a soil classification system, affected the proliferation of plant parasitic nematode populations, with brown and pallic soil types promoting nematode reproduction, especially for Pratylenchus. Pallic soils refer to a soil type having pale, fragile topsoil and compacted subsurface. For the brown soil, its topsoil is dark grey-brown, and the subsoil is tan or yellowish-brown.

    The lowest number of plant parasitic nematodes was detected in organic soil. Organic-rich soils favor a wide range of beneficial fungi, bacteria, and nematode survival. These microorganisms can suppress the proliferation of plant parasitic nematodes by either feeding on eggs or predating invasive nematodes.

    The study further indicated that the population and diversity of plant parasitic nematodes increased alongside distinguishing developmental stages of maize. Most nematodes were reported from the harvesting stage, while the least were from the seedling stage.

    Root-knot nematode (Meloidogyne enterolobii). Image from Jeffrey W

    Thiru and his team noticed that rotating maize with other crops played a significant role in reducing the incidence and prevalence of plant parasitic nematodes in the field. These other crops included ryegrass, pasture, wheat, white clover, potato, peas, and winter crops. One maize field located in Canterbury was detected with a high significant intensity of 3000 nematode root lesions per kg of roots as a result of non-rotation practice.

    Thiru concluded that there was a requirement for a deeper understanding of dispersal, feeding characters, and life cycle of plant parasitic nematodes, in particular, root-lesion nematode (Pratylenchus) in maize fields across New Zealand. Specific pest management approaches are needed to control the prevalence and abundance of targeted nematodes impairing maize production in both islands.

    These article was prepared by Sambath Seng, a Master of Science student in the Department of Pest Management and Conservation at Lincoln University.

    Thiruchchelvan, N., Kularathna, M., Moukarzel, R., Casonato, S., & Condron, L. M. (2024). Prevalence and abundance of plant-parasitic nematodes in New Zealand maize fields: effects of territory, soil orders, crop stage, and sampling time. New Zealand Journal of Zoology, 1-22. https://doi.org/10.1080/03014223.2024.2424900

  • The munchy mountain mystery of the lost bark beetle!

    The munchy mountain mystery of the lost bark beetle!

    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.

    Fungal branches. CC BY-SA 4.0 Rafał Szczerski

    Mould in bread is caused by a fungus (fungi for 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 a type 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?

    Lichen on rock. CC BY 4.0 Caleb Catto

    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!

    Spores from a fungus. CC BY 4.0 Aurora Storlazzi

    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.

    CC BY 4.0 Luis Prado

    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.

  • What went wrong with Himalayan tahrs in New Zealand?  

    What went wrong with Himalayan tahrs in New Zealand?  

    How would you feel if an animal deeply respected and protected in your homeland was treated as a trophy animal and hunted in another country for being invasive? I was heartbroken to discover the fate of Himalayan tahrs when I first arrived here in New Zealand.

    A proud Sherpa with Chhomolungma (Mt. Everest) in the background (Hey! He looks exactly like the author of this blog!!!) Photo: ©Author

    Being from a native Sherpa community in the Khumbu region (popularly known to the world as The Everest region), I grew up roaming around the high alpine environment of the Himalayas. The region lies in the Sagarmatha National Park and Buffer Zone (SNPBZ) and is home to majestic mountains including the highest peak in the world, Khangri Chhomolungma (Mt. Everest in English), as well as stunning rugged terrains, glaciers, lakes and diverse flora and fauna.

    A photo of male Himalayan Tahr taken on the way to Everest base camp trail Photo: ©Author

    The Khumbu region is habitat to many endangered wild animals including snow leopards, musk deer and red pandas. Due to its rugged environment and mountain slopes, the region is also a suitable native habitat of the Himalayan tahr (Hamitragus jemlahicus). We call them “Ri Rau” in Sherpa language meaning “Wild Goat”.

    A herd of Himalayan Tahr seen on the way to Everest Base Camp Trail Photo: ©Author

    I was around 6-7 years old when I first saw a herd of the Himalayan tahrs grazing on the hills near my hometown Lukla while walking with my father. I remember watching and admiring them for hours hiding behind a rock. I was immediately mesmerized by their presence. The male stood out with their glossy thick brown coat of straight hair as if they came straight out of a salon, with strong dark horns surrounded by the females and their young ones. I was especially stunned by their ability to move confidently and swiftly across the rocky slopes. That moment still relives fresh in my memory. Since then, whenever I saw them, I always paused for a moment to admire their elegance and capturing the moments for memories.

    The Himalayan tahr is currently listed as Near threatened on the IUCN Red list. In their native habitat they are mostly predated by common leopards and snow leopards. Due to anthropogenic activities such as habitat loss and illegal poaching, their population have been declining, and they are now protected in their native Himalayan environments.

    When I first arrived in New Zealand, I discovered that the Himalayan tahrs are considered as invasive species, and they are hunted for recreational purpose in the country. I was really surprised by this as they are protected in the region that I come from. After doing some digging, I found out that the Himalayan tahrs were introduced in New Zealand in the early days of European settlements for sport, gifted by Duke of Bedford to help with recreational hunting option for emigrating Englishmen and released near the Hermitage at Mt Cook in 1909. As New Zealand doesn’t have any natural predators of Himalayan Tahrs, their population escalated rapidly reaching a population size of tens of thousands over the Southern Alps.

    A Trophy Hunted Tahr
    Photo: Image generated by ChatGPT (DALL-e) by OpenAI

    The Department of Conservation of New Zealand (DOC) has been working on Himalayan Tahr population control since 1993 under the Himalayan Tahr Control Plan (DOC, 1993: HTCP) which allows limited population of around 10,000 tahrs within the seven defined management units. However, the tahr population has grown beyond the limitation of management plan in recent years, making it difficult to control them. The HTCP also includes a defined feral range to contain their population and permits farming or holding in game estates for commercial hunting only within the designated range.

    A report from Lincoln University, conducted in 2020 by Geoff Kerr, Garry Ottmann and Fraser Cunningham studied the potential for containing tahrs in game estates outside their feral range to reduce demand on the wild tahr resource as recommended by the Game Animal Council (GAC, 2014). Three GPS tracked male tahrs were released in the High Peak Game Estate on 19th December 2018 to monitor their behavior and movement pattern inside the enclosure over a twelve-month period. While one tahr died of unknown causes, the remaining two were kept there until 24th December 2019. The study was done on the hypothesis that tahr containment within a game estate outside of their feral range would be successful.

    The trial was successful showing that Himalayan thar can be effectively contained in game estates outside their feral range. GPS data showed minimal fence interaction, and the tahrs quickly adapted to their new territory. Most boundary activity occurred during the breeding season. The study also suggested potential for larger scale commercial operations due to their herding behaviour.

    Despite extensive research and ongoing control efforts, Himalayan tahr continues to threaten New Zealand’s native biodiversity by heavily grazing on tussocks, alpine herbs, and shrubs, plants that have no evolutionary history of mammalian herbivory, thereby disrupting the natural ecological balance.

    This problem also raises a serious question of human intervention with nature. More than wondering how to manage tahr populations, I find myself asking: What are they even doing here in the first place? Himalayan tahr has become invasive in New Zealand because people introduced them here without realizing its future consequences and it has backfired us, leaving us to manage the aftermath of our own decisions.

    Witnessing the realities of a Himalayan tahr changing from a revered mountain dweller in my homeland to trophy hunted invasive species in New Zealand, has been an emotional and eye-opening experience for me. Looking at the conservation dilemma of tahrs between two different countries has challenged my perception and shown how the value of wildlife depends on the context. The Himalayan tahr’s journey, much like my own, has crossed oceans and adapted well into the new environment but the only difference is that the tahrs didn’t choose to come here. The Himalayan tahr’s story is a very powerful reminder of how human actions can disrupt the natural ecosystem. As someone who grew up admiring their beauty in the Himalayas, I hope their fate improves in the future.

    The author, Ngima Chhiri Sherpa, is a postgraduate student in the Master of Applied Science (Environmental Management) at Te Whare Wānaka o Aoraki Lincoln University. This article was written as an assessment for ECOL 608 Research Methods in Ecology.

    Paper Reference: Kerr, G. N. ., Ottmann, Garry., & Cunningham, Fraser. (2020). Himalayan tahr on game estates outside the tahr feral range. Centre for Land, Environment & People, Lincoln University. https://digitalnz.org/records/44715317 

  • Kiwi Hedgehogs : A Journey of Curiosity and Connection

    Kiwi Hedgehogs : A Journey of Curiosity and Connection

    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.


    Landscape of Khunjrab National Park, Pakistan © Nisar Ahmed

    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.


    Hedgehog searching for food © Author

    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.

    The author, Muhammad Waseem, is a postgraduate student in the Master of Science at Te Whare Wānaka o Aoraki Lincoln University. This article was written as an assessment for ECOL 608 Research Methods in Ecology.

    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