Colony at Cape Kidnappers

Greymouth Evening Star, 25 June 1927, Page 9

Colony at Cape Kidnappers

ST Cape Kidnappers, some 20 miles sou’-south-east of Napier, is the largest and most remarkable gannet rookery in the world. Of wonderful contour, Cape Kidnappers juts into the azure blue of the Pacific, and never fails to impress the visitor to Napier. How this point came to be named is a story in New Zealand history in which the youngsters of Hawke’s Bay are well versed. Captain Cook visited the Bay in October of 1769 and was very much impressed with this portion of the coast. While his ship, the Endeavour, was lying at anchor, it was approached by a long Maori war-canoe, manned by a score or more of armed natives. Teata an Indian boy, picked up by Cook in his travels, was over the side in one of the ship’s small boats. The Maoris on coming alongside seized the boy and attempted to make off with him. Their intentions, however, were frustrated by the Endeavour’s gunners opening fire, resulting in the rescue of the boy and the killing of some of the natives. The heights of this cape, whence the Maori once looked down upon the strange ship of the Pakeha, are now inhabited by another people. Feathered they are, charming and hospitable. They are Mr. and Mrs. Sula Serrator and their kin, the Gannet family, closely related to the Solan Goose (Sula Bassana) of Great Britain, the Boobies of the equatorial regions, and the Malagash (Sula Copensis) of South Africa. The body feathers of the gannet are

a beautiful white; the head and neck buff; and the tail and wing-tips a shining ivory black. From April to August, the birds range the Pacific, and, as far as can be gathered, never migrate north of the line. They return to the cape about September, and when the male bird has selected, courted and finally won his mate for the season, building operations are commenced The nests are simple mpunds of sea weed, crude, yet having beauty in their simplicity. One egg is laid and the task of incubation is shared by both birds in turn. In about five or six weeks this egg-shell citadel is rent asunder by that “mighty atom,’ the immodest gannet chick, who, entirely without feathers, makes his bow to

Mother Nature. Shv, good woman, ever kind to these helpless little folk, sees that they soon take on a fine white down, later adorning them with dark white-tipped feathers. In a couple of months the impudent youngsters are waddling about clad in a beautifully speckled coat. And so these changes of plumage take place until the chick of yesterday is now the picture of his daddy, ready to dive and catch his fish with all the skill of the older birds. Choose one of those irreproachable days, so characteristic of the Napier summer, and set out by car for the home of the gannets. You must pass through the picturesque little village of Clive, through Haumoana, the week-enders’ rendezvous, to Clifton. From this point the journey can be continued on horseback, or as many prefer, on foot, along the gleaming stretch of sand, kissed by the sparkling wavelets of the Pacific. Press on until reaching the high cliffs of the cape, where the grim majesty of the bluff forces itself upon you. But time and the “cape tide’ wait for no man. You must move on, for the most difficult part of the journey lies before you. What a climb! But it is truly worth the reward. Aye have reached the nesting-ground of the gannets. The nests are dressed row on row with regimental precision and neatness and the unique spectacle of four or five thousand birds nonchalantly keeping their solitary egg warm is something to remember. Mr. and Mrs. Sula prove to be the essence of cordiality, for your precaution in making an approach, lest they take fright and rise en mass to circle

overhead, was entirely needless. They are the most charming of hosts and hostesses, welcoming visitors with customary squeaks and squaks into the wonders of the rookery. Alas! the day is drawing in and you must prepare for the return journey—bearing in mind that you have the inevitable tide to “beat” or else spend the night in the gannet eyrie, exposed to the unsympathetic breezes from the sea. What a wonderful day it has been! One could, indeed, spend days .with these friendly birds of the Bluff, and at the end of that time, still have much to learn in the enthralling “class room” of the great outdoors