I had a few hours observation in the morning at Death’s
Corner where 7 was again present.
7 was shy at first but a combination of small almond bits
and insatiable curiosity over what I was doing with my notebook and pen
overwhelmed him in the end and he stayed quite close. At one point he took a
firm grip on the edge of my notebook and gave it a short tug.
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| 7 enjoys the wind in his hair. |
I have found a round stone structure with a moss covered top
that I lay on so I can peer into the surrounding bush. I call it my layby. When
the kea groups move around I usually follow them and try to sit at a level that
is closer to their height.
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| Many of the kea had pollen stained feathers around their beaks. |
Yesterday 7 landed on a car and began to pick at the rubber
on one of the windows. He was chased to my car by a combined group of tourists
who then tried to shoo him away but I told them not to bother. The car’s paint
is faded and cracked in places and I’m not sure it will pass another warrant of
fitness to stay road worthy. In short, a bit more picking won’t hurt.
The car had been sitting in the sun for about two hours and
the metal was hot to the touch. 7 was having such a lovely time posing and being
admired by a group of about eight tourists that he tried to overlook the
burning sensation in the bottom of his feet by first lifting one foot and then
shifting to the other to comic effect. Finally the heat was too much for him
and he flew off into the mountains.
I have been in the habit of observing in the morning to
around midday and then going on an easy hike on one of the nearby trails. Just
before I left DC the Westpac helicopter flew over and I assumed a tramper had
been injured and activated their location beacon.
I drove to the trail head of Devil’s Punchbowl and huffed
and puffed my way up the mountain.
Two other helicopters flew over and I got
the impression there was a disaster somewhere down the road.
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| Piripiri growing along the path to the Devil's Punchbowl |
When I reached the
highway I found that the road was closed and traffic was backed up through
Arthur’s Pass village.
I asked a woman what happened and she said a tourist bus had
lost breaking power down one of the hills and crashed. Three people had been
seriously injured. I parked the car in the shade and decided to go to the
Wobbly Kea for an ice cream.
News spread through the crowd that the road would be closed
for an additional four hours. Some people turned and went back toward
Christchurch others left their cars to buy food and chat with each other.
I bought an ice cream and later a chicken curry and took up
one end of a comfy blue coach with a German gal on the other end. It was funny,
she was reading a scholarly journal in German and I was reading a scholarly
book on Kea. At one point I pulled out my journal to amend some of my notes and
a bit later she pulled out a journal and wrote some notes. We chatted briefly
about the accident but mainly sat in silence reading. Two hours later the road
was reopened and she went on her way and I went to the car. We wished each
other well.
My car was parked on the opposite side of the road so I
crossed it to a truck that was waiting to go and asked if they would let me
pull out in front when the traffic started moving. The general consensus in the
car was that they would not.
“You’ve been sitting in this heat for hours and you’re ready
to go, I understand,” I said.
I went to the car and put on my turn signal. Once the
traffic started to move the man in the truck made a waving gesture with his hand.
They had changed their minds and decided to allow me in. I waved and blew a
couple of kissed as I pulled out and got on my way.
The accident happened on a sharp curve past the Otira
viaduct. The bus had flipped on its side and a burning smell still hung in the
air as I drove past. Another crumpled car had been loaded onto a wrecker.
 |
| Three serious injuries were reported after the wreck. |
Apparently when the bus lost control it smashed into another
vehicle. The bus was driven by a kiwi but filled with Chinese tourists. Passing
motorists had pulled over and broken bus windows to help free the tourists.
They offered water and comfort to the injured.
Good Kiwi sorts helping out those in need.
The Otira hotel had become a hub of activity and one
reporter was still on the scene when I arrived. Ian let me use his laptop to
read about the accident.
He told me some of my neighbours were having a New Year’s
party later and that I was welcome to go. I was pleased although I ended up
falling asleep at around 11pm and only becoming half-awake with the setting off
of fireworks around midnight.
I met the gallery owner next door and his wife who did a PhD
on women’s mana within her iwi. We had a chat about research.
I fed the mama kune kune an apple and one of the Clydesdales
got a pear which he obliterated. I saw what must have been an escaped pet
rabbit nibbling grass behind the hotel. He was white with dark grey spots and
he let me get quite close before he hopped off slowly to another grazing patch.
I had a few text messages from Nick that made me think he
was coming for a visit so I waited expectantly for him. He never showed up and
I got too sleepy to stay awake.
It’s 8:30 on New Year’s Day and I’m going to go have a bath
and head out to Death’s Corner.
(More notes on morning observations to follow)
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