The Goblin Forest

Forest and Bird, Issue 105, 1 August 1952, Page 8

The Goblin Forest

By

DR. J. T. SALMON

NOT many New Zealanders know of the existence in their country of beech forests of a type such as the one which has been nicknamed, by the few who have penetrated it, the Goblin Forest. In this article Dr. Salmon describes the stunted trees, abundant mosses, and the eerie silences which justify the name.

In the Homer and Gertrude Cirques, overshadowed by the great bulk of Mount Talbot, are small patches of stunted beech forest. These for the most part cling to the rocky sides of the cirques or struggle to disguise the great heaps of stones, some as big as small houses, which have flaked off from the sides of the surrounding mountains. One of these patches has acquired the name of “Goblin Forest”. I first entered it with the late George Howes of Dunedin. We were working the Homer area investigating the insect fauna of

these mountain regions. Howes had been there once before but it was my first visit. One day, in the Gertrude, Howes asked me “Had I seen the goblins?” On my reply - ing in the negative he led the way to the opposite side of the cirque where we entered an extraordinary and fantastic area of mountain beech forest composed of stunted trees, none of which were more than 12 to 14 feet high. Their branches, . gnarled and twisted by the rigours of. the climate, appeared through festoons of lichens and moss, or rose

goblin-like from over or behind great blocks of stone which themselves were all completely swathed in the most luxurious growth of moss, lichens and fern I had ever seen. As we entered we seeemd to pass into another world, cold, damp and eerie in its deathly stillness. I remember as we entered being startled by a small bird flying close in front of me, a couple of feet away, and making no sound; at the same time Howes’ voice faded away, absorbed in the great blanket of moss and lichen that clothed this extraordinary place. I dropped my camera tripod but did not notice it as there was no sound of impact with the ground. Walking on this carpet of moss and lichen was almost noiseless and to talk to each other we almost had to shout. I retraced my steps to find my tripod buried in the moss where it had fallen, with only its head showing—it was a wonder it did not disappear entirely. I found I could bury my arm to the elbow in the moss at the spot where it had fallen.

Looking around at the fantastic shapes of trees with the equally fantastic festoons of moss and great growths of lichen, one’s imagination could run riot and as we walked through and out the other side I agreed that the place was well named the “Goblin Forest”. Where it grows rainfall is over abundant, about 250 inches per year. This, enhanced by the mist produced by falling avalanches and cascading streams, together with a situation relatively sheltered from wind, has produced an exceptional climatic condition in. which has developed this most extraordinarily luxuriant growth of moss and lichen that gives the spot its character. It was a particularly wet season when I first , saw it. A few years later I visited it again, the season was drier, the growth.less luxuriant and the effect less weird. Probably it varies with the nature of the season. No doubt there are many spots in the mountain fastnesses of southern Fiordland of the same character.