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Whangarei Heads’ seaside communities line sheltered bays on the inner harbour; one at Ocean Beach snuggles in amongst the sand dunes. Ribbon development has scattered housing along the main road. Life-style blocks, and clusters of dwellings on branching side road, fit like jigsaw pieces between the long established farms and substantial public reserves. The area contains unique archaeological, historical and landscape features; it has the largest remaining intact stand of coastal broadleaf and pohutukawa forest in Northland. Residents, permanent and seasonal, live, work and play there for a variety of reasons, but almost without exception have an appreciation of the area’s natural beauty.
“Why conservation?” Why indeed! Consider the ground currently under your feet. What was it like originally? Let your imagination go back 1,000 years. More than likely you would find yourself standing in dense virgin forest, a unique living system which had been developing since before the time of the dinosaurs, a land upon which the hand of ‘man’ had not yet been laid.
New Zealand, geographically isolated for so long, was the last place on earth to be colonised by humans; first Maori, and then almost immediately (in relation to the vastness of geological time) by Europeans. Both peoples brought with them a hunger for natural resources, the technologies to procure these, and a variety of alien animals and plants. For the indigenous species the impact upon the delicate balance of their ecology was profound.
We have a tendency to view the world in which we have grown up as the norm. It’s not until we stand in virgin bush, or listen to the dawn chorus on a mammal-free offshore-island sanctuary, that we realise what it is that we have lost.
Thirty-two bird species disappeared from Aotearoa after the arrival of Maori; another nine vanished into extinction because of animals introduced by Europeans. Over two and a half thousand native animal and plant species are currently recognised as being threatened. Browsing mammals such as possums continue to devastate our plants, while exotic weeds like mothplant and pampas out muscle them, altering the natural habitat upon which native animals depend. Vast areas of indigenous habitats have been cleared for farming and forestry; urban development puts even greater strain on the remaining natural landscapes. In short, our natural heritage has taken a beating; many of the scars are permanent; we are at risk of losing even what we have left. And it’s all because of us!
If we do lose our natural heritage, would it really matter? A rhetorical question, surely!
Fortunately there is a growing concern and awareness of the need to conserve our native species and their habitats. This is based partly on nostalgia, maybe includes traces of guilt, and certainly the realisation of what this unique collection of endemic plant and animal species means to us in terms of national economy, identity, mental health, and indeed our very own survival.