Although riflemen are sexually dimorphic, both the male and the female have this pearly-white chest and belly, along with these grandad eyebrows. Young birds are more mottled on their chests, and the pearly chest and white brow seem to come in as the birds mature. Both male and female have the yellow sweat stains under their wings. It’s hard work hopping up trees hunting insects all day long!
New Zealand’s smallest bird, the rifleman (Acanthisitta chloris), feeds exclusively on insects. They browse native forests, going up and down trees, systematically hunting down their tiny prey. This rifleman on the track to Mt Arthur Hut has taken an interest in what’s inhabiting the mosses and lichens on the underside of a branch (probably a beech). These riflemen explore all angles. A daring acrobatic feat? How hard can it really be to hang on to the side of a tree with your feet if you weigh only 6 grams? Oh wait, he’s only using one foot. Awesome!
To overseas visitors used to snowfall in deciduous forests, it might seem odd to see snow on and around trees that haven’t lost their leaves. New Zealand’s southern beech (Nothofagus) species are evergreen, so this is what our forests look like when it snows. This photo was taken on the track up to the Arthur Hut in the Kahurangi National Park, New Zealand’s second largest national park. The trees are mountain beech and the mossy forest floor growth survives the winter months just fine, thriving once again when spring arrives. One way into the park is just a 45 minute drive from downtown Motueka, up the Graham Valley Road, which ends with a steep, unsealed drive up to the Flora carpark. From the carpark, you can walk up the Flora Saddle to a junction, where one track goes up (towards the Arthur Hut) and one goes down (towards the Flora Hut). This photo was taken on the track going up to the Arthur Hut on a morning in late June.
When Europeans started looking at weka closely, they were confused over how many species there were. There was also thought to be an extinct species of little weka, known only from sub-fossils, but these days that species is thought to have been a variant of the ones we still have. The four subspecies vary in size and colouring, but the common theme is shades of brown streaked with black, the occasional patch of grey, a strong reddish-grey bill and red chicken legs. This is a western weka (Gallirallus australis australis). The western weka is the only weka subspecies that isn’t threatened. The buff weka (Gallirallus australis hectori), for instance, was once common in the east of the South Island, but is now extinct on the mainland. They’ve been reintroduced to a couple of lake islands in Central Otago, but reintroductions into Canterbury have failed. Weka are a difficult species conservation-wise. Because weka eat such a wide range of foods, including eggs and chicks of other bird species, introductions to islands that are home to other at-risk species needs to be carefully thought out.
St Arnaud is a tiny village (pop 442) on the shores of Lake Rotoiti in the Nelson Lakes National Park. The road through St Arnaud was temporarily a major highway following the Kaikoura earthquake in November 2016. Massive and multiple landslips over the coast road north of Kaikoura required over a year’s work to get the road open again, which meant anyone travelling between the lower parts of the South Island and Picton had to go via the alternative route. The detour was marked on this sign at Kawatiri Junction as the “Picton Detour”.
Kawatiri Junction, the turnoff from State Highway 6 to Picton
Since the coastal road reopened at the end of 2017, it’s no longer the detour, but the sign hasn’t really caught up yet, hence the temporary fix. The road had a hard time over that 13 months, taking on way more traffic than it was designed for. Small stopping-off points like St Arnaud and Springs Junction became temporary truck stops and food caravans popped up to feed all the hungry travellers.
Building and maintaining infrastructure in the South Island has never been an easy task. The mountains are steep and prone to erosion, slips and the occasional earthquake. The old railway platform at Kawatiri Junction is a reminder of just how hard it can be building in such difficult country.
The old railway platform at Kawatiri Junction
In the 1860s, the Nelson Provincial Council started investigating the possibility of a railroad connecting Nelson to the rest of the South Island. Today, it is sometimes referred to as “the railway to nowhere”. Work began in 1876, and although the railway had reached as far as Glenhope in 1912, work on the 6.5 kilometre Glenhope-Kawatiri section stopped and started during the war years, then ground to a complete halt in 1917. Work on the Kawatiri tunnel began in 1920 and a workers’ camp was set up across the river from the tunnel work site, at a place called Woodhen Bend/Pikomanu. The workforce built up to around 300 at its peak and the camp had its own post office. The tunnel, which is sometimes called the Pikomanu tunnel, cuts 185 metres through a granite spur around which the Hope River flows. North and south of the tunnel, bridges crossed the river, providing what must’ve been spectacular views of the river running through the beech-forested hillsides.
Today the tunnel is part of the Kawatiri Historic Railway Walk. The platform at Kawatiri Junction has a number of panels describing the area’s history, and the walk starts just north of the carpark. The walk goes through beech forest along the path the railway track used to follow before crossing the Hope River via a footbridge built on the old railbridge supports.
The footbridge was built on the old railbridge supports
The concrete above the entrance to the tunnel says 1923, the year work on the tunnel was finally completed. It was another three years, though, before trains were using it to get to Kawatiri Junction.
The tunnel, completed in 1923, cuts through a granite spur
At only 185 metres long, you don’t really need a torch to walk through the old Kawatiri rail tunnel, and being without a torch adds to the eerie, damp atmosphere.
The damp, eerie Kawatiri tunnel
The tunnel cuts through granite, and digging out the tunnel was hard work. At first, workers had only hand tools for digging the holes dynamite was placed in, and rubble was cleared using picks and shovels. Later, once about a third of the tunnel had been cut, a compressor was available, making drilling easier. Altogether, work on the tunnel took three years.
The tunnel exits above the Hope River, where you can see the supports for the old railbridge. The walk goes up and over the tunnel, following the bend in the river, then loops back down to the southern end of the tunnel and you can follow the track back to the carpark at Kawatiri Junction.
The railbridge supports in the Hope River
In the end, Kawatiri Station was to operate for just five years.
The stop before Kawatiri was at Glenhope Station, which closed in 1955 when the entire line was finally closed.
Glenhope Station is now a barn
Today the old station serves as a barn, with a lean-to hay shelter built onto the side of the original building. There are no railway lines remaining; they were taken up soon after the line was closed. The Glenhope station is visible from State Highway 6; if you’re going north, it’s on the left-hand side, just before the turnoff to Moonlight Road. It’s not publicly accessible, however, as it’s on private land. But from the road, you do get a glimpse of the past, when a railway line ran through the beech forests of the Tasman District, all the way up to Nelson.
The walk through the Kawatiri rail tunnel ends above the Hope River, where you can see the supports for the old railbridge. The track goes up and over the tunnel, following the bend in the river, then loops back down to the southern end of the tunnel and you can follow the track back to the carpark at Kawatiri Junction. The bend in the river is called Woodhen Bend, suggesting that weka used to be common in the area. Newport’s 1962 history of the Nelson back country says that the weka of Woodhen Bend had white wings. This wouldn’t be an extinct species but a variant of the western weka found in the Tasman District.
At only 185 metres long, you don’t really need a torch to walk through the old Kawatiri rail tunnel, and being without a torch adds to the eerie, damp atmosphere. The tunnel cuts through granite, and digging out the tunnel was hard work. At first, workers had only hand tools for digging the holes dynamite was placed in, and rubble was cleared using picks and shovels. Later, once about a third of the tunnel had been cut, a compressor was available, making drilling easier. Altogether, work on the tunnel took three years. The tunnel was only in use for five years before the Glenhope-Kawatiri section of the line was closed in 1931.
Although the Nelson railway line had reached as far as Glenhope by 1912, work on the 6.5 kilometre Glenhope-Kawatiri section stopped and started during the war years, then ground to a complete halt in 1917. Work on the Kawatiri tunnel began in 1920 and a workers’ camp was set up across the river from the tunnel work site, at a place called Woodhen Bend/Pikomanu. The workforce built up to around 300 at its peak and the camp had its own post office. The tunnel, which is sometimes called the Pikomanu tunnel, cuts 185 metres through a granite spur around which the Hope River flows. North and south of the tunnel, bridges crossed the river, providing what must’ve been spectacular views of the river running through the beech-forested hillsides. The concrete above the entrance to the tunnel says 1923, the year work on the tunnel was finally completed. It was another three years, though, before trains were using it to get to Kawatiri Junction.
In the carpark that is home to the old Kawatiri Junction railway platform, there’s another bridge over the river, but access to it is restricted. If you’re just stopping in the carpark and reading the historic info panels, you might think there isn’t much else to do there. But at the northern end of the carpark, the Kawatiri Historic Railway Walk starts, and it’s well worth the 20 minute return trip. The walk goes through beech forest along the path the railway track used to follow. It crosses the Hope River via a footbridge built on the old railbridge supports and continues through the Kawatiri tunnel. This photo was taken partway across the footbridge, and you can see the tunnel in the distance. A warning: If you’re there anytime other than winter, Kawatiri Junction is a bit of a sandfly magnet. Protect yourself!
At the Glenhope end of the Glenhope-Kawatiri section of the old Nelson railway line is the old Glenhope railway station. The railway line reached Glenhope in 1912, and it served as the line’s terminus until the Kawatiri station opened in 1926. After Kawatiri Station was closed in 1931, Glenhope was the terminus once again, until the line closed altogether in 1955. Today the old station serves as a barn, with a lean-to hay shelter built onto the side of the original building. There are no railway lines remaining, they were taken up soon after the line was closed. The Glenhope station is visible from State Highway 6; if you’re going north, it’s on the left-hand side, just before the turnoff to Moonlight Road. It’s not publicly accessible, however, as it’s on private land. But from the road, you do get a glimpse of the past, when a railway line ran through the beech forests of the Tasman District, all the way up to Nelson.
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