THE LAST GREAT SOUTHERN ADVENTURE
Words: Sarah Pratt
Facebook is great. You feel like you’re traveling the world without stepping foot outside your tiny hell hole of an office. You know the one that doesn’t have air con, holds wonderful co-workers with thrilling conversation about their burping new born, and who could forget the awesome pay packet which means you don’t just get to work weekdays, but weekends too! Living. The. Dream. Fortunately, we can seek comfort in the fact that most of the time the photos our friends post are cheesy and lame. Except for the The Leaning Tower of Pisa ones, they’re pure gold, anyone who says otherwise is a fool. But photos of the world are exciting and beautiful. Especially when they’re taken by someone who has a way better camera than your friend’s crappy iPhone4, and is doing something a tad more exciting than hooking up with overzealous Europeans. Someone who, for example, is documenting the Wild Animal Recovery Operators in New Zealand, someone like Olivia Page. Now these snaps are rad, epic and all those other words people use to describe amazing stuff. She’s even got a book, and because we’re super nice and the fat man is coming to a chimney near you, well we thought we’d give you a little sneak peek. Enjoy!
‘The Last Great Southern Adventure- Helicopter Hunting Fiordland’ is a photographic snapshot of the wild venison recovery industry in Fiordland New Zealand as it stands today. Inside you will find interviews and stories about the industry; past, present and future, the process and the Wild Animal Recovery Operators who were flying in Fiordland during the summer of 2011. To accompany this book is a cinematic DVD. Exploring the venison recovery process between legendary pilot Dick Deaker and renowned shooter Jeff Carter; this is an eye opening documentary about a hunting technique and wilderness that very few have had the privilege to experience.
We hope that you enjoy this thrilling journey, through the majestic mountains and over the enigmatic fiords, deep into the unspoilt corners of Fiordland. This is a celebration of a unique industry, the heroes gone by and the new breed daring to keep the dream alive.
HISTORY
Europeans of mainly English and Scottish descent colonised New Zealand in the early to mid 1800s. By the 1900s there had been hundreds of legal and illegal ‘liberations’ of various big game species throughout the North and the South Island for sentimental, food and sport hunting purposes; including Red Deer, Wapiti, Rusa, Fallow, Sambar, Sika, Whitetail and Moose. Pre-colonisation New Zealand had a long history of evolutionary isolation; this meant that flora and fauna were particularly vulnerable to the damaging effects of introduced species. The only land-based mammals in New Zealand are the short-tailed and long-tailed Peka Peka, tiny bats that weigh around 10g. Many introduced species flourished within New Zealand’s ideal climate and abundant food supply, including and especially the Red Deer (Cervus Elaphus). Due to lack of predators much of New Zealand’s bird life evolved to be flightless, something that proved devastating to birds like the Kiwi and the world’s only flightless parrot the Kakapo (currently 131 remain). Rare skinks, geckos and invertebrates like the Giant carnivorous Powelliphanta Snail (they can grow up to 90mm across, many species are endangered); that depend on the moisture and shelter provided by forest litter were also greatly affected. Within a few decades deer had literally devoured vast areas of New Zealand’s wilderness; browsing and grazing flats and forest undergrowth as well as farmland.
OPENING CHAPTER
Location: The Land of Water and Stone
Hunting deer from a helicopter is a bold pursuit. However doing so in Fiordland is taking it to the next level. Located on the most remote southwest edge of the South Island, Fiordland National Park is over 1.26 million hectares of epic, rugged and wild terrain. Its yawning U-shaped valleys have been carved out over thousands of years by massive slithering glaciers, whilst frequent tectonic movement has helped form its towering granite peaks. Situated between 30and 50 degrees latitude, Fiordland’s location leaves it exposed to ferocious westerly winds that make for moody weather, adding an extra dimension to aerial deer recovery. Operators have grown a deep respect for what has become their backyard. Challenges for pilots and shooters include the sudden onset of torrential rain, thick fog, snowfall, and gale force winds. Fiordland is one of the wettest places on earth, averaging more than 200 days of rain a year; pilots often find themselves flying past newly formed waterfalls, mountain slips and landslides. It is certainly humbling to work within an environment made up of such extreme conditions, however it is easy to see what makes it worth the effort. Apart from the enchanting fiords that slice through the thick temperate forests, Fiordland is a playground of glacial streams, virgin beech, moss-carpeted valleys, alpine lakes, mammoth tussock beds and peculiar wildlife found nowhere else in the world. A showcase of Mother Nature’s finest work; Fiordland is simply a unique and extraordinary place to work.
The venison industry that has flourished within the walls of this epic wonderland has rolled through time like an enormous wave. For many it has been the ride of a lifetime, while others have been chewed up and spat back out and some swallowed up whole. One place that has felt its every move is a small town called Te Anau. Separated from Fiordland by the largest lake in the South Island, it has a permanent population of 2000 that swells to 10,000 during the summer. It is mostly a quiet and sleepy town, all except for the regular and exciting hum of helicopters, light-planes, floatplanes and boats. Littered with hangers, including the quaint Manapourie Airport situated 20 minutes out of town, Te Anau is the gateway into Fiordland. Unquestionably this is a town that has been absolutely saturated by the venison industry. When you stroll into bars like ‘The Moose’ or ‘The Working Mans Club’ gigantic trophy heads and antlers line each and every wall. Grainy black and white photographs hang; of men who are still alive today but mostly of those whose legends remain in the nostalgia of the ‘Wild West’ days. A time filled with stories; of pilots who landed their helicopters in the car park of the local watering hole after a hard day hunting. When with a handle of beer in one fist and a gun in the other shooters aimed at meaningless targets without budging from their bar stools. ‘When men were men and women wished they weren’t', as the saying goes.
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