Kakapo demand attention. They are exceedingly rare, large, unusual, endearing, long-lived and have the appeal of a kitten, with the beard of an old man.
I had my own enchanting encounter with Solstice One. As a sickly chick, this bird was nursed back to health earlier this year at Wellington Zoo by Lisa Argilla, who is now looking after wayward emperor penguin Happy Feet.
Taking a mouthful of clothing with its strong beak, followed up by a three-clawed grip one foot at a time, Solstice One climbed expertly on to my shoulder and proceeded to nibble on one earlobe, then the other. Judging by the blood drawn on the ranger's hands I knew a painful bite could follow, but Solstice One seemed content with just an exploratory grinding chew on both ears and a peck at what was left of my hair before settling down and preparing to go to sleep.
As enthralling as that was, later that afternoon I encountered more birds equally rare. In fact these little fellows, who in comparison with the publicity kakapo receive have flown under the radar, were thought to be extinct for 150 years.
Not far from the Doc hut on Codfish Island in a small tannin-coloured creek is a resident population of Campbell Island teal. These, the rarest ducks in the world, are nocturnal and flightless. A small population of 20 survivors was rediscovered on the 23ha Dent Island, off Campbell Island, in 1975.
Three of these little cuties made themselves known as I crossed their creek and as I sat still they waddled over and pecked my boots but scuttled away at my slightest movement. The good news is that with Campbell Island now predator-free, they are flourishing back on those cold and windswept subantarctic islands, as is this small wild population on Codfish Island.
