Departure Day

It rained all last night and is still going strong this morning. It was very pleasant to listen to before going to sleep.

I sat down to work on my jigsaw puzzle last night but realized the futility and packed it up instead. 

I set up the camera on a tripod and attempted to take a self-portrait in the living room. The results are what I call “A portrait of the researcher as a chubby middle aged woman.” 

I have saved a few of the least horrible images so I have memories of my pleasant times spent in this house.

After the photos I gathered up personal items and put things back the way they were in the house.

I ended the evening by reading a chapter of “Kea, Bird of Paradox.”

I was struck by the reality that this habitat will become inhospitable to the kea in a few short months and that many of them will face starvation if they don’t find adequate food sources during the winter. They are brilliantly adapted to dealing with snow, cold temperatures and high winds but an empty stomach is still fatal.

I have been comparing the lives of the captive kea at Willowbank to the wild kea here. The captives have a safe environment in which to survive but the risks there is that they will get bored so constant stimulation and environmental enrichment is required. The birds can only fly for short distances and their diets do not consist of their native foods. Willowbank’s flock has a good social system because most of its birds are siblings born from Rugby and his mate. They receive stimulus from the visitors who walk through and bring in new items like strollers, hats, bags and foods.

The wild birds can soar and find endless sources of entertainment and stimulation but they face starvation risks in winter, 1080 and lead poisoning, rock throwing, being hit by cars and even some shootings by frustrated locals. 

Their ability to get over shyness and insatiable need to satisfy their curiosity endears them to visitors but also puts them at risk for harm.

I wish DOC would put out feeding stations at forest locations closed to the public and supplement the kea’s diet in winter. Starvation seems to be the biggest threat to kea numbers. Until such a program exists, the birds will struggle with limited natural food sources during this time and sheep or ski field foods will become a means for survival.

The Kea Conservation Trust might be interested in trialing such a program. Funds and locals would be needed to keep the stands stocked with food but local volunteers could help. Researches could also participate in observing the birds during these times to see how many come to feed, the state of their health and social interactions at the feeding stations.

The stands would only be stocked in the winter so the birds would resume their natural dispersal and foraging habits in the spring.  

Such a feeding program existed on Kapiti Island where a DOC ranger put out nectar for the kakas every day. 

Anyone arguing that this would disrupt the natural habits of the birds should be reminded that they are already drawn to refuse dumps, garbage bins and cafes where human food sources can be exploited.

A local told me that even though the bin lids in Arthur’s Pass Village had been weighted to keep out the kea, eight of them had been observed working together to lift the lid and get into the garbage.

I observed banded kea “M” going into the storeroom of the Wobbly Kea. He would go in for a few seconds and regularly pop his head out to make sure no one was coming. At one point he hopped out and ran around the corner when one of the employees went in. When she was gone he checked that the coast was clear and went back in.

Death’s Corner is littered with plastic bottles and containers and the remains of human foods like carrots, chips, fruit cores, spilt coffee and cauliflower. 

I found 4 scavenging candy from a container thrown in the rocks. Her beak was coated in sticky sugary matter.

I feel that some of these items are taken from visitors rather than willingly given but feeding still takes place. 

I’ve seen people put down bits of fruit and one family tore up a hamburger bun and gave it to three birds.

It is interesting to hear what visitors to DC tell others about the bird. 

Some say they are smart and the world’s only alpine parrot while others say that they kill sheep, destroy cars (which they sometimes do) and “will take your finger off.”

It slowly dawned on me that people might get the impression of keas as dangerous because of the unique size and shape of their beaks. 

However, it is their cousin the kaka that has the beak form to crush objects efficiently. 

According to Diamond and Bond the kea is more adept at prying, probing and tearing.

Their beak tips are not sharp and they have the capacity to be very gentle and precise with the things they pick up or explore.

I have been pinched on several occasions by youngsters and grumpy keas at Willowbank and only twice has the pinch nearly broken the skin. It isn’t a pleasant sensation by any means but it isn’t life threatening and it removed the fear I once had about getting gouged in some way.

I think this perception of the kea as a blood thirsty finger eater is good for making people keep a respectful distance from them. (Now if we can only get the kea to remain a respectful distance from the people we might reach an easy peace.)

I’m planning on stopping at DC for one last observation this morning although I’m not sure there will be much activity in this weather.

Yesterday I found a rain soaked A singing out mournfully beneath a rock but after watching me approach he flew off with a series of contact calls.

As I was sitting in the car and writing down this info, 4 appeared out of the bushes and I went out to see what she was up to. 

She was by herself and she went through a series of play moves. She shook the piece of plaid fabric someone had left on a rock. She walked all over my car and tested the rubber window lining with her beak. She tested a leather dog collar with her beak before picking it up and tossing it off a rock. She picked up a stone and tossed it away from herself and then hopped after it, picked it up again and gave it another toss. I picked up the same rock and tossed it for her. She picked it up for a few more tosses and seemed content to throw it by herself. After that she fossicked in the nearby rocks. 

When she got too saturated with rain she gave her neck a shake like a dog and made all her head and neck feathers stand out on their ends. 

It was still raining lightly and the visibility was limited by mist when I left her fossicking at about 7:30 pm.

January 3, 2016

I am now going to gather my things, load up the car and turn in the key to Holiday House over to Donna. 

I will miss being here but I have missed my family and hot showers and clean laundry and Indian curries so I am glad to be going home.

It is nice that this place is only two hours from home and accessible to me on any weekend. I think my next few visits will be long weekends. I hope to come back in a few months and see what the group at DC is like. 

On A Rainy Saturday

1 & 2 January, 2016

Nick came to visit on New Years’ Day, showing up at the door with a wailing Alex who took a moment to realize that it was me and that I was in this strange house in this strange place.

I had an excellent morning observation with the kea from about 9-11:20 and I had intended to go again in the early afternoon but Nick doesn’t like hanging around for hours while I obsess over kea and Alex would probably have had a meltdown of some sort.

So, since I was being visited by two babies we decided to go out and do some human friendly things. We took Alex to see the kune kunes which made him let off a string of excited unintelligible vocabulary while reaching his arms out towards them and opening and closing his hands.

I fed momma pig an apple and we popped into the hotel for a lemonade. As we were walking home we passed the semi tame white rabbit grazing in his usual area.

The train engines were being lined up for the Trans Alpine passenger train and I thought Alex might like to look at them. We came out of the middle subway that runs to the station to find that the Trans Alpine was there already. A group in the first carriage waved to Alex while he stared at them in a bewildered state.

The TA stops at this station every day at 3:30 in the afternoon. They have to add extra engines to pull the train up the grades in the pass. The process only takes around five minutes and then they head off toward Christchurch.

We went to Arthur’s Pass village next to get some food at the Wobbly Kea. I walked to the DOC visitor’s centre to ask about the banded kea I had seen. The woman told me the Kea Conservation Trust is now responsible for banding so I will try to contact Tamsin Orr-Walker to get info about the individual birds I’ve been observing. Hopefully she will be interested in some of my data and we can have a nice exchange of information.

Nick and I took Alex on the Bealey Nature Walk and I was able to take some better photographs of the sundew species there with my micro lens. We walked to the river and Nick entertained Alex by throwing big rocks into the pools and making a big splash. Alex tried to do the same but ended up throwing the rocks behind him. Alex wanted to walk by himself along the wooden paths even though he had difficulty with some of the stairs and would use his hands and feet to climb down. If we tried to pick him up and carry him he became irritable.

Nick made it clear he didn’t want to sit at Death’s Corner while I hunted Kea so we drove home and I returned in my car. It was about 7:35 when I arrived and the only Kea present were two birds sitting high up on the metal power line tower. I was able to get some information about the individuals that had been present thirty minutes prior. There had been about eight in all including one banded with the letter “E” who I have never seen before. Maybe the day was too hot because none of the birds came down to the parking lot and the two on the power pole flew off to the mountains after a machine gun call seemed to summon them there.

Today I got up at 6 and struggled to get myself awake. Alex had woken up in the night, wailed, crawled onto the mattress with Nick and me and proceeded to kick, head butt and wedge himself between us so that getting comfortable and going back to sleep was impossible.

I managed to get to DC at 7:15am. There were no birds in in the parking lot and mine was the only car so I waited and watched until I saw one kea land above me on the old Otira pass road.

I got my notebook and camera and hiked up the gravel road remains until I saw 4 walking around a little way ahead of me.

She immediately flew over and landed by me so I sat down to observe.

Within minutes C, a hen and a subadult male came out of the bushes and headed toward me. C must be the patriarch because the other male hung back while C walked over to check me out.

The hen also stayed with him and seemed solicitous of food from him. She had a slight yellow coloration to one part of her eye ring so I’m guessing she is a subadult as well.

We were soon joined by four other birds including another female fledgling that 4 repeatedly tussled with.

The adults began to forage and fossick in their group, tossing large rocks out of the way to see what was underneath and munching on daisy heads and other low growing alpine plants that were present in abundance.

This was an obvious social feeding time. C would perch on a rock from time to time and check to see that everything was in order. The behaviour of C was very neutral toward the other birds. He did not set up his crown feathers or make any aggressive displays toward the other birds.

4 and the other fledgling female would lock beaks roll on their backs, kick, flap their wings and hop around each other. When I got closer to them to take pictures I noticed that they were making a low metallic sounding noise toward each other which seemed to signal that they were both ready to tussle.

One male walked up to my face set his crown and nape feathers up and made a strange sound like a police siren approaching. It was louder than the fledglings tussle call but not shrill. I have no idea if this was a challenge or an attempt at flirting and I may never know because he was chased off by C who seemed to be telling him to move along and mind his own business.

Another amazing display happened between two subadults. It seemed like a courtship display of some sort where the two touched beaks before standing shoulder to should and unfolding their wings to show a little bit of the red coloration underneath. One bird gently grabbed the nape feathers of the other and appeared to be getting into position to mount although he did not. There were no vocalizations during this. Perhaps this was practice courtship.

Throughout my time observing I was approached by different birds to see what I was doing before they wandered off to a nearby plant to have breakfast. At one point I was laying on my stomach to get a bird’s eye level view and 4 hopped on my pants leg followed by A.

A light pinch on my Achilles tendon led to the curious explorer flapping to a nearby distance and resuming his fossicking.

My presence seem to be accepted and not interfere with the birds’ normal fossicking and play behaviours. I was pleased to see 4 nibbling at the flower heads and another fledgling had mastered holding her food in one foot and eating it.

I saw a few moments of allopreening but the main goal of the birds seemed to be feeding.

No one made any begging gestures for regurgitated food although one bird did give C a quick preen on his neck as he was passing by.

Kea seem to get itchy feet and I wonder if they don’t get sandfly bites too. One fledgling went to town picking at her feet with her beak for a good two minutes.

There are a lot of orange, pollen stained feathers around the beaks and there is a lot of kea sneezes. Most of them are quick “chew” sounds but one individual’s sneeze was so powerful that it ended in a medium pitched cry.

At one point another bird joined the group so there were nine in total.

After about an hour of being with the upper road group, 4 flew down to the parking lot with another fledgling and A.

They seemed to get somewhat hyper and the male landed on top of a tourists’ rental van and flapped his wings and screamed at them when they got closer to look at him. He then went to town, stripping the rubber off their radio antennae.

The family was still quite taken with him and this may be because the van was a rental and the repair bill will be going to someone else.

4 chased the male away and took over tearing at the antennae.

Then she hopped onto my car and tested the seals on the windows and tried to mangle my antennae although it is all metal and wouldn’t yield.

When I approached the car she hopped around the roof like a playful puppy ready for a tussle. The other fledgling tried the back tire with her beak while the male poked at the front one and stuck his beak into the front of the car to see if there was anything to pick at.

4 picked at the back wiper and jump back in surprise when I showed her how the wiper arm lifted up. After the rigorous Kea Warrant of Fitness test my old vehicle seemed no worse for the wear.

The birds’ play came to an end when a black backed gull flew over and they took off together back toward the old Otira overpass where I had observed them feeding.

I left then to get home to Nick and shortly after it began to rain steadily.

After breakfast Nick and Alex headed home and I returned to DC. I saw 4 perched on a rock in the rain but she looked uncomfortable and soon flew away. I am guessing the rest of the kea have found dry spots under rocks and bushes because I did not see them although I did her some contact calls.

I have been indoors the rest of the day. The outdoor pants I was wearing were not waterproof nor were my sneakers and I was getting wet and cold.

I took a monster nap and now I am thinking of going to the Wobbly Kea for my last dinner of this trip. Tomorrow I will try to do one last morning observation. I will be sad to leave this area and desperate to get back as soon as I can.

 If I can get in some long weekends out here throughout the year that would be ideal. A week seems like too long to be away from the family but only getting out for one long visit a year won't help me get any robust data.

I will put on my gumboots and take my umbrella now so I can do an evening check in at DC. I have a feeling the group will all be nestled away somewhere dry while I’m wondering around in the wet trying to find them.

Thursday and the New Year

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.

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.

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. 

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) 

Tuesday & Wednesday

December 29 and 30, 2015

I fell asleep midday on Tuesday and woke up just before there was a forceful knock at the door. I was alarmed at who might be banging on the door but I was happy to see Nick standing on the porch.

He said he reckoned I had just come down here to nap but I spent the morning up at Death’s Corner hanging out with about eight kea.

The star of the group is a female banded juvenile I call 4. (This is the number on her leg bands) She challenged another male juvenile and chased him and some other adults away whenever there was something she wanted.

I returned to DC in the evening and she was there again.

This morning when I went out to DC to observe she was there again. She seems to be related to an adult male banded with a C tag. He preened her briefly and then she preened him too and opened her beak so he would feed her. He made a regurgitating gesture although I couldn’t see if there was any crop milk. She hopped around C in circles like an excited child and followed him around the parking lot.

While I was seated at one location she flew up and into my back briefly. I don’t know if she was testing me out as a perch or just having some target practice but she tried again a bit later.

There was an adult male with an 8 band on his leg and he kept me company. 

From time to time I would put out small bits of almond to bring the birds close to me for study and photography but mostly I followed them around and sat down nearby to watch them.

 8 would touch my knee gently with his beak to get my attention. He adopted a relaxed posture where he sat down on the back of his legs and watched me for a bit. He also took the edge of my notebook and pen in his beak.

The people that come to DC are usually delighted by the kea but one woman who arrived in a Jaguar with her husband stayed there with the windows rolled up and lost her temper when a kea landed on the hood of her car. 

She got out of the car with a shirt and said they were awful birds that were shitting everywhere. I think she reacted this way because she was terrified of the kea and it was a glimpse at the down side of how tourists and visitors can react around them. 

Yesterday a saw a girl throw a book out the window of her vehicle at a kea that had landed nearby and I almost said something to her. 

Another man warned me when a kea was on the roof of my car and said to someone else that the birds would “get your fingers.”

I’ve been nipped and pinched by kea many times before at Willowbank. As a child, I received more painful pinches from my mother’s fingernails when she thought I was being naughty in church. 

The fact that Keas have a powerful multi tool in their beaks and that only a few of them pinch in earnest has cured my fear of bites. Every species has its grumps. Kea are no different.

What amazes me is the extent to which they learn about the world through their mouths. The beak and tongue tell them about the flavor, textures, durability and the function of objects. They learn first through manipulating objects with their beaks. 

While adults remain curious about new objects in their environment their reactions are positively sober in comparison with the juveniles. To the latter, the world is one big novelty shop. Everything must be pulled, tossed, pried and nipped. 

There are the natural objects of twigs, berries, grasses and rocks and then there are the strange man made things like zippers, Velcro, rubber and plastic. 

A youngster discovers eye drops.

Kea parents and adults indulge juvenile antics because this is how the young learn to survive.

I think the flock I have been seeing at DC is part of some sort of extended family group.

I’ve been going out to DC in the morning around 10 am and staying for about an hour and a half. 

I return in the evenings at around 7 p.m.

Today I went on a small hike down the Bealey Track.

 There were some amazing alpine plants. 

There were two species of sundew growing close to each other and several varieties of daisy. 

I saw one tomtit and it proved nearly impossible to photograph.

This afternoon I picked some lupins for the house and I found what I’m guessing is a deer skull while I was wading through them. I’m thinking of taking it home for Audrey to use as a model for some of her drawings. I may paint it.

I had a slice of carrot cake at the Otira pub and feed some apple to the mama kune kune there. She was constantly pestered by her three portly piglets and finally she just had to lay on her side and let them nurse.

After that I got another apple from the house and took it out into the back paddock where the Clydesdales are. I went under the wire fence and found three of the boys grazing in a group. There is a forth who was off doing his own thing. I’m not normally nervous around horses but these are big animals and I was cautious around them. I fed the apple to the closest horse and another came to investigate. I let them both sniff my hands to see I didn’t have any more fruit and they went back to grazing. 

If I had to describe their attitude towards me and I would say it was passing indifference. I walked home after that made myself a cup of tea and worked on my jigsaw puzzle.

It’s 12:15 am at the moment and I think that will do it for me today.

Later That Afternoon

28 December 2015

I woke up from a late afternoon nap feeling mildly disoriented. I decided to go to the pub and get some dinner.

Looking around at all the ramshackle buildings and signs of family life in the town gives one the impression that Otira is falling apart and thriving at the same time.

To get to the pub you have to use the pedestrian subway running under the train tracks.

Above the entrance to one tunnel is the date 1922. During that time the town would have been thriving with its little school, tea rooms and tidy houses tenanted by the rail workers and their families.

On the tunnel walls is some half-hearted graffiti. I say half-hearted because there is really no pride of ownership in the tagging. There is one message of love, the words “kia kaha,” a rough sketch of two people and the word “bitch.”

There isn’t one single representation of a penis anywhere. This disappointed me somehow.

You can tell that those who felt compelled to leave their mark were in a small town state of mind. 

Why use a patina of rich colours or explore the true depths of profanity when your audience is less than 100 townsfolk and they aren’t really bothered in the first place?

I had my first whitebait patty at the pub. It was good but it took a bit of concentration on my part to not think about eating whole tiny fish.

I met Ian, a man who works at the pub, lives in a bus behind it and has a healthy respect for kea.

He was kind enough to show me where the town’s rubbish tip is so I can go there and look for kea at some point.

There is a mama kune kune and three piglets by the pub. There is also an extremely tall and very exotic looking goat which I’m told is Namibian. I will look this up later to confirm.

I managed to feed an apple to one of the Clydesdales earlier and I tried to make nice with the neighbour’s giant dog (named Turbo) but while I was petting him I hit a sore spot and he snapped at me-not in a close call sort of way but in a way that let me know he had been hurt. His owner apologized and I decided it was time to get on with my exploration of the area.

My other neighbour Philip told me there was a path to the river behind our houses. I had on my Muck Master boots and I walked toward the back paddock until I was confronted with some flimsy looking wire. I crawled over it (in my summer dress, flashing panty once again) and immediately came across a dead Weka. I thought it would be nice to have some of its feathers but when I tried to pull some out the whole bird came with them. I left it alone.

I walked through a small wooded area and a kereru flew overhead into a nearby tree. They are very large birds and very noisy flyers.

On the other side of the woods there was a rocky ledge which I climbed up to find a gravel and grass road. I climbed down another rocky bank and reached the stony bed of the Otira River.

To my delight I found a natural pool just out of the river’s current where I can go for a dip in the hot afternoon.  At least, I mean to try. The water is very cold and it would mean walking over there in my swim suit and risking becoming a meal for thousands of sand flies.

On the way back through the wooded area I thought I would take another look at the dead Weka. I bent over it to study its state of decay and then glanced up to see a couple of people watching me from their back porch.

That’s when I realized I had probably become Monday night’s entertainment and Otira’s official “weirdo in residence.”

I fumbled quickly over the paddock wires and made a B-line for the house.

I’m sitting in the living room now watching Turbo’s owner talk to his neighbour over the fence. A little while later a man with a long grey beard and two tea cups walks through his back yard and into Turbo’s back yard.

Tea and a chinwag seems like a nice way to spend the evening.

I hear the roar of KiwiRail engines across the street.

First Impressions

28 December 2015

I arrived at what I thought was the entrance to the village of Otira and did a confused loop in my car on the wrong side of the tracks. This was in full view of the locals who were enjoying some refreshment outside the Otira pub. I parked outside the pub and walked in with my head bowed slightly so I wouldn’t have to see anyone laughing at me.

The lady who owns the bar took one look at me and said, “I know you,” which made me feel a little better. We met about two months ago when I came through with Nick.

I explained that I was trying to find my way into the village and that I had also brought some broccoli for Scotty the Gullah. The lady pointed me to another woman named Donna who told me she would be looking after me but that my house needed a vacuuming first. I begged her to let me come along and help clean. I just wanted to get settled in and hide from the locals.

I found my way to the house through the only road in and met Donna at the front gate.

“How long you staying?” she asked.

“Until Sunday,” I said. “They didn’t tell you?”

They didn’t.

The end result was a caretaker with a vague notion that someone is coming to visit at some point.

While Donna borrowed a vacuum from the house next door I wandered to the paddock across the street to pet one of the Clydesdales grazing there. They belong to the Lester the publican and from time to time he harnesses them to a carriage and drives them around town. Otira was once a major stagecoach stop between Christchurch and the West Coast.

The house was everything I wanted.

Donna must have apologized for the state of it five or six times but it was perfect.

The paint was peeling off the exterior and there were layers of mismatched wallpaper and paint on the interior. The floor sagged in places and the windows operated by weights and pulleys built into their frames.

The toilet was off the back of the house in its own little room which was no doubt luxurious for its day (being much nicer than a long drop with a tin roof overhead).

Just off the tiny kitchen was a bath and a free-standing sink. There was a window that opened over the bathtub into what is now a closed in porch and sunroom.

Sitting in this sunroom I found a very nice specimen of mid-century chair-without stains or weird smells. I carried it into the living room and angled it and the coffee table so I could look out the window at the mountains.

There are high peaks on either side of Otira. They seem perfect for keeping most of the world out.

I’ve gleefully found my own little slice of Mordor to enjoy for the week.

I chose a room for myself, put my sheets on the bed and moved the furniture around to suit my taste. I opened all the windows so a nice breeze goes through the rooms.

There are a large number of house spiders who have eyed me suspiciously and become very anxious about their places in the home. I’ve tried to mess with them as little as possible with the exception of the outside bench built into the house’s front porch. There was a small apocalypse there because I needed a nice spot to reflect on life and this was the best one.

I put down a comforter that I folded over three times and double cased some pillows I found in the spare room. 

The first time I sat down to write the wind blew the front door shut and I was locked out of the house. I left my bedroom window open so I climbed up the wall in my flip flops, and struggled to get through the window frame in my short summer dress. I flashed the train station across the street but I don’t think anyone was around at the time. I lost my balance halfway through the window and fell face first onto my mattress. Goodbye dignity!

I grabbed the key to the front door and re situated myself on my porch bench.

I originally invited Nick to come down with me but he said he had to work so I left him, the NPR and Alex back at home. I’m enjoying being alone so far.

I plan on studying kea while I am here but I’m not putting too much pressure on myself.

My main goal is to familiarize myself with the trails and tracks around Arthur’s Pass and go to the usual kea haunts to do some observations.

I need to find out where the local dump is as this was a prime viewing spot for Diamond and Bond during their research on the social habits of kea.

I am interested in both wild and captive kea. I want to observe them with humans and without humans to see how they behave.

Most scientist would probably set up a hide and try to be inconspicuous but I don’t care if the kea spot me. I want to interact with them as much as possible and I am not worried about them “not behaving naturally” when I’m around. You could argue that a bird seeking out strangers in its environment and playing with them is not natural behavior but that’s just what kea do so the orthodox approach is pointless here.

I may give certain animals names as I become familiar with them. There is a huge tendency in the scientific community to pretend that researchers are above such things but the scientific community can suck it. I will be taking a leaf out of Jane Goodall’s book.

While I’m on the subject, I believe that animals are just as capable as humans of displaying feelings and complex communication-they just don’t always do it in a way that we can recognize. 

In the case of the kea I reckon this is especially true as they have shown advanced skills in problem solving and tool making both in the wild and in the Kea Lab at the University of Vienna. 

Seven Days in Otira

I just returned from a seven day research trip to study keas in Arthur' Pass National Park and I will be posting some research notes and stories from the stay.

For now, here's a picture: