Auckland Islands General Grant Gold Expedition 1975

Auckland Islands General Grant Gold Expedition - 1975

In 1975, the Department of Lands and Survey offered me a role as its representative on an expedition to search for and salvage gold from the wreck of the General Grant, which met its demise on the wild west coast of the main Auckland Island in 1866. The ship had been bound for Britain from Melbourne via Cape Horn, which was the preferred route “home” at the time to harness the prevailing westerly winds.  On board were many gold miners returning to Britain from the Australian goldfields with their booty.

The General Grant was a 3-master American ship (Image 1).  On board were 83 souls – 68 of whom would drown when it went down on the Auckland Islands, including many women and children.  Fourteen men and one woman survived the ship's sinking.

According to the ship's manifest, also on board were 2500 ounces of gold. In addition, it was generally believed that there would have been similar amounts of gold carried by individual gold mining passengers and the ship's ballast was even thought by some to be made up of gold-bearing ore.

The Auckland Islands are positioned 465 km (288 miles) south of Bluff, New Zealand, at between 50.30 - 50.50-degrees latitude. They are in close proximity to the Great Circle route (Image 2), and that is generally believed to be why there are so many ship wrecks along its western shores.

Several of the wrecks located are shown on the accompanying chart (Image 3), but many of the old mariners believe that this is only a fraction of the real number that lie below.  In those days, ships just disappeared without trace and the mariners believe many met their fate along this coast having been further south than they should have been due to the incorrect positioning of the main Auckland Island on some charts of those times. 

The Auckland Islands were named by whaler and sealer, Captain Bristow, who discovered them in 1806 and named them after a friend, Lord Auckland.

Strangely, the General Grant was not wrecked as a result of any storm (Image 4). Quite the opposite, it became becalmed and drifted slowly into one of the large sea caves that characterise this coastline. Here, the surge of the sea drove the mast head up against the roof of the cave, which then forced the mast down through the bottom of the hull.  The ship broke up over many hours. Lifeboats were lowered, but survival was low, especially for the women and children.  One of the main reasons for this is that these were the days of greater modesty, with woman wearing layers of long petticoats and skirts.  Rather than whip them off to help them swim to the lifeboats waiting further out from the swells, they floundered in their skirts, hanging on to their children to the bitter end. 

The 15 survivors journeyed by lifeboat around to Port Ross via Disappointment Island (Image 5) where they had it tough.  Nothing much edible grew in the Auckland Islands but they managed to survive by eating seabirds, birds’ eggs and seals.   They made clothes from seal skin (Image 6). One survivor died within months and, in desperation, four others set out for New Zealand in one of the life boats. They were never seen again. The rest (10) spent 18 months on the island before they were rescued.

Since the sinking of the General Grant, many attempts have been made to find the wreck to salvage the gold. The first 5 attempts resulted in 6 lives being lost – such is the danger associated with this wild place and the extreme diving conditions.

Even the location of the vessel has never been certain due to the large number of caves and the many wrecks that litter this coast line. The year before our arrival, an expedition led by the well-known diver, Kelly Tarlton, had located this particular wreck, but only at the end of their allocated time and, although it fitted the description provided by the General Grant survivors, Kelly was not convinced it was the General Grant and so took no part in our salvage attempt.

Our venture began in Dunedin in 1975 on the 78-foot MV Acheron owned at the time by Alex Black. I had been on the Acheron with Alex on a couple of trips in Fiordland. He was a tough taskmaster but a very experienced skipper.

The Auckland Islands were declared a nature reserve in 1934, although Adams Island at the southern end of the group was first set aside in 1910 (Image 7). Anyone wishing to land on a nature reserve requires a permit. A condition of the permit, at least for this expedition, was for a government representative to be present.  I was a National Park ranger based in Fiordland at the time and I was fortunate enough to be offered the role. It would be a life changing experience for me, without doubt. Essentially, my role was to observe the salvage operation to ensure that none of the activities undertaken threatened the Nature Reserve. 

I also had other duties assigned by the Department which, fortunately, as it turned out, took up most of my time, but more on that later.

Our first stop after leaving Dunedin was at Stewart Island before heading out on the 450 kilometre journey to the Auckland Islands via the Snares Islands (Image 8). The Acheron had a fairly rounded hull which was fine close to shore and within the confines of the Fiordland fiords, but in the furious fifties she rolled like a dog. Despite their maritime backgrounds, everyone aboard spent most of the time either leaning over the rail or in their bunk. Fortunately, although very queasy, the captain and I remained upright.

 Our first sighting of the Auckland Islands was in fine weather and the ruggedly beauty of western coastline was immediately apparent (Image 9). The main island, on the eastern side, is deeply indented from past glaciation, but the western side consists of massive cliff faces along its total length, being at the mercy of a constant barrage of huge seas (Image 10). There is no other land mass in its path other than the very distant South America.  Out of interest, the Auckland Islands are further south than South Africa’s Cape of Good Hope.

We cruised past Disappointment Island in the north of the group, which was heavily occupied by many seabird species, our arrival being right in the middle of the breeding season (Image 11). This was also where the survivors spent their first night but, being outside the breeding season, they went hungry.
As we sailed toward the coast and the wreck site, we gained clear insight as to how the survivors must have felt when they became becalmed and slowly drifted towards the huge cavern before them.

The Auckland Islands are volcanic in origin which is clear to see in the cliff faces and the huge basalt columns formed from cooling lava that are everywhere around the coastline of this island group. 

Once at anchor at the wreck site, Commander Gratton went into “in charge” mode and the salvage operation began in earnest (Image 14). The diving team primarily consisted of ex Royal British Navy divers known and appointed by Commander Gratton. Two others were kiwis who had dived earlier in the year on the Kelly Tarlton expedition (Image 15).

Our expedition had all the hallmarks of a good movie script. During the entire voyage from Stewart Island to the wreck site, we were shadowed by the fishing boat, Atlantis (Image 16). We labeled it “the pirate ship”, as it was clear that its sole mission was to tail us to the wreck site so that it could conduct its own salvage attempt if we came up empty handed.  We played cat and mouse a number of times, to no avail; it stuck with us. Once we dropped anchor at the wreck site, the Atlantis departed. However, I later encountered the ship and crew anchored off the failed Hardwicke settlement in Port Ross (more on Hardwicke later). On boarding it I discovered a bunch of artifacts (bottles, primarily) illegally taken from the settlement.  I confiscated them and took down their particulars for later processing by the Department. Nothing eventuated from this documentation, to my knowledge.

There was little for me to do in my official capacity whilst the salvage operation unfolded and, as stated earlier, I had other tasks to perform. I was dropped off at Sandy Bay on Enderby Island (710ha) along with Martin Cawthorn, a notable marine scientist who was studying the Hooker sealion (now known as the New Zealand sealion). He would cadge a ride on any ship that was heading Auckland Islands way so that he could further his research. Martin and I hit it off, and it was a great experience and privilege to assist him with his research activities (Image 17). Indeed, discovering the abundance of wildlife over the next few weeks was one of the most impactful times of my life.  In the main, and remarkably, they had no fear of man.

Martin and I stayed in the boatshed for the duration of my time assisting him (Image 18). Unfortunately, it only had a 5ft stud and, with me being 6ft 5in, it was a little uncomfortable.   All the old signature entries carved into rafters over the years were an intriguing read as I dozed off in my bunk each night.

The boatshed was originally built in 1888 to house a dingy and provisions for castaways after the Derry Castle sank in 1887 with 23 deaths and only 8 survivors. Although the survivors did manage to find the Stella castaway depot, it had been emptied of its provisions. Thankfully, they were rescued after 93 days (Images 19 & 20). Their story is definitely worth a read (check the link below) 

It was New Zealand Sealion breeding season. This is the rarest sealion in the world, declared vulnerable by the IUCN Red list with only 12000 remaining at this time (Image 21).  Lasting 2-3 months, the breeding season is a war zone for males, females and pups (Image 22). Bulls weigh up to 400kg and females less than half that at 160kg.  Some 82% of females show signs of bites by males. In the process of procreation, bulls get killed through fighting, 5 in every 1000 females die from harassment, and a much higher number of pups die from being accidentally squashed or smothered by the bulls. 

Behavioral changes by the females are interesting. When feeding they enter and exit the sea during the high end of the tide to reduce the beach zone where they can be attacked by frisky males.  The females also tend to depart in groups when returning to the sea to feed, again to reduce the chances of attack as they run the gauntlet of males.

Bulls often fight to the death in securing a harem of females - note the dead bull behind on the beach in image 23. Two 2-year-old males, pretending and practicing to be beachmasters in image 24. It will be eight years before they mature to breeding bulls, but they are still immensely strong.  I saw a 2-year grab Martin (who is a sizeable man) around the thigh and toss him aside like a rag doll.  Fortunately, he was wearing thigh waders at the time to protect himself against that very risk.

The beach isn’t all violence, however, and peace does reign from time to time (Image 25). Sealion pups are also very cute and behave similarly to dog pups (Image 26).

New Zealand sea lions were once common in New Zealand, but were hunted to near extinction for their pelts and oils.  Around 90% of the world’s population of NZ sealions are now confined to the Auckland Islands and consequently 90% of pups are produced here, too.  Current threats are still very real (Image 27).  Each year many get caught in squid or scampi trawl nets by overseas ventures, and the fish take from these trawlers is also generally believed to be depriving sealions of food.  Scientific studies have determined that female sealions travel up to 140 kilometres to feed, and that they dive deeper and longer than any other eared seals (otariids).  They exceed their aerobic dive limits during 68% of all dives, indicating that they are operating at their maximum capacity, not necessarily by choice but presumably because of their need to find enough food.  These activities are placing stress on the cows and perhaps creating undernourishment in the pups due to the extended time their mother is away food gathering.

The breeding cycle of the NZ sealion is unusual (Image 28). The mother tends to the calf almost through to the next breeding season, so in effect she is pregnant whilst tending to the previous year’s young.  The breeding cycle starts with the bulls arriving on the beach in late November to stake out their territory and wait for the females to arrive a couple of weeks later.  The cows all give birth as a result of the previous year’s mating from early December to mid-January.  They are then mated (frequently) 7 days later.  The bulls depart by the end of January and, 6 weeks after birthing, the cows take their pups up into the scrub for shelter where they stay until the next breeding season.

On the other hand, humans are not habituated to the Auckland Islands and need assistance to survive. Consequently, the New Zealand Government built the Stella hut as a castaway depot in 1880 as a result of the many ship wrecks that were occurring there (Image 29). Two further depots were built, one in Carnley Harbour and the other on neighbouring Campbell Island, further south. Signs were put up on prominent points on the islands to direct survivors towards the huts (Image 30, note the closely cropped cotula grass grazed by rabbits – often used for bowling greens back in New Zealand).

At the same time as the huts were erected in 1865, the French Blue rabbit and later mixed-breed rabbits, were liberated on the Auckland Islands (a year before the General Grant sinking) by the HMS Victoria as a food source for castaways (Image 31) Unfortunately, the rabbits did what they do best and bred profusely. They were in their thousands when I was there and had developed an interesting adaptation to overcome a finite food supply - becoming smaller than their forbears - which enabled continuation of their expanding population with a limited food supply (Image 32). 

Again unfortunately, their burrowing behaviour led to horrendous sealion pup deaths every year. The pups would enter the rabbit warrens to shelter from the cold sub-Antarctic winds. Others would cram in behind them, with those furthest in dying of suffocation.  It was estimated that around 10% of the pups were dying this way every year back then. The scavengers of the sub-Antarctic Islands, the skuas were benefitting from it as they feasted on the dead pups (Image 33).  

Needless to say, the rabbits were an easy source of protein for Martin and me. If there was nowhere to run and hide, they would simply freeze on the open ground for me to pick up.

Also, resident on the island were wild cattle (Image 34), most closely resembling Shetland Island cattle and the result of a failed farming operation back in 1894.  One of my tasks was to complete a census of the cattle population on Enderby Island - 27 in three separate harems, by my count. Near the end of the census-taking I had an altercation with the biggest bull of the lot with the largest harem of 11 cows. They were grazing in the open grass area adjacent to the forest and, as I cautiously approach, one of the cows spotted or smelled me and ran into the forest taking the other cows with her.  The bull, facing the other way and further out in the open, had not noticed me or the departing spooked cows, so he continued to graze. He was a magnificent animal and so I decided to stalk him from a down-wind position, hoping to capture a good close-up photo to accompany my report to the Department. I had become keen on photography and had a Nikon with a macro lens around my neck, but no telephoto lens so I had to get very close for a good shot. I got very close, so close that when the shutter went off the bull heard it despite the strong wind, and he instinctively leapt in the air on all fours and took off towards the bush after the cows (Image 35 – apologies for the quality. I learned as a poorly-paid ranger that if you are careful when loading 35mm film into your camera you can squeeze 39 slides from a 36 roll but, there are risks…. risks I learned from big time here). I was busy congratulating myself for the shot when I noticed that the bull hadn’t disappeared into the forest after all, but had stopped, turned to face me and begun pawing the soil with one of his front hooves. It was time to quickly design and execute an escape plan, but there was none. I was out in the open grassland between him and the massive sea-cliffs behind me. I took the “run to sea-cliff” option, but when the bull began to charge at a horrendous pace, it did not take me long to discover the flaw in the option chosen. He was gaining on me fast, and the only alternative I could think of at the time was to turn and face him. The new plan was to jump up and down, wave my arms and camera furiously, roar louder than a bigger rival bull and, once he was about to spear me with one of those horn skewers, to dive to one side and simultaneously swing my prized camera on its strap to whack him on the nose. Whilst he was charging towards me, I have to admit to flashes of deep regret at probably not seeing my family again and concern at perhaps being seriously injured and not able to get medical help in such a remote place. But I was somewhat consoled with the flashing thought that Martin could give me an overdose of the knock-out stuff he was injecting into the sealion cows to gather his research information, in order for me to have a peaceful ending. On and on the bull came towards impact where Plan B was executed almost perfectly. I dived at the right time but missed the bull with the camera, and somehow, the bull missed me and kept running in a wide arc back towards the forest. I have to admit I was shaken, but elated that I had survived and had a bloody good story to tell Martin when I got back. It was then that I felt a weird sensation between my legs and looked down. Low and behold, I had peed my pants. The walk back to the boatshed to tell my tale to Martin became more of  a dawdle as I waited for the evidence to dry off in the sub-Antarctic winds.

The flora and fauna of the sub-Antarctic Islands are unique and mostly endemic. The Auckland Islands are the largest land mass in the Pacific sub-Antarctic region with more endemic land birds than any of the other island groups the richest flora assemblage in the Southern Ocean and the only forested island of any of our sub-Antarctic islands. The following photos (Images 36 - 69) provide a taste of the richness of the flora and fauna on Enderby Island.

Another fascinating story about the Auckland Islands is that it was a site of a Coastwatcher station during the Second World War. The large harbour of Port Ross was thought to be an obvious staging point for a possible invasion of Australia and/or New Zealand. So, at a place called Ranui Cove in Ross Harbour, the Coastwatcher base and lookout-post were established (Images 70 and 71). Two other stations were established, one in Carnley Harbour and the other on Campbell Island. The military were very smart – they knew the isolation could be a major threat to the coast watchers’ wellbeing so they appointed budding young natural history academics to fill the role.  It worked a treat because, whenever they were off-duty, the coast watchers would pursue their individual passions in the field.  No place better than the Auckland Islands to learn, and practically all those who participated went on to become famous in their chosen field. Two of them, Charles Flemming and Robert Falla, were eventually knighted for their specialist expertise.

The purpose for my visit by dingy and outboard from Enderby Is to the Coastwatchers’ base at Ranui Cove was to check out the condition of the buildings and look-out hut and take notes of any repairs/maintenance that were needed to keep it weather proof. I had the whole day so I gave the place a good clean and took some rubbish out the back to bury. It was then that I noticed a box of dynamite up against a rata tree that must have been left there from the Coastwatcher days. It was in an advanced state of deterioration and weeping seriously. I figured I could not leave it there because I recalled from my explosive course a few years earlier that weeping nitroglycerin was highly volatile and susceptible to movement and temperature. Although an explosion was ever likely, I couldn’t shake the thought that some innocent person could in the future be injured or killed. So, I approached the pile gingerly to figure out what to do. I also recalled from my earlier training that the best way to dispose of gelignite was to burn it, so that’s what I did. Very carefully I lit a fire and hoped like hell I wasn't about to give the nearby rata trees a second blooming for the year, and that burning was a safe method of disposing of dynamite as well as gelignite. Thankfully, it worked.

During a period of foul weather when diving conditions had to be halted, the Acheron brought the crew around to explore the sheltered eastern side of the main island for a bit of rest and recreation. They picked Martin and me up from Enderby Island and we set about cruising the coastline of Port Ross.

The site of the Hardwicke settlement in Port Ross was our first port of call (Images 72 ans 73). Hardwicke was the location of a failed attempt at colonising the Auckland Islands back in 1849. Englishman, Charles Enderby, won government support and funding to establish a colony on the Auckland Islands to revive the declining British whaling industry. A complete settlement was built, including a school and pub, and all the necessary tradesmen and professions were sent to establish a permanent colony. Unfortunately, the number of whales remaining from the original slaughter by whaling ships had been grossly overestimated, and the harsh climate in which to farm the land and produce enough food to sustain the colony grossly underestimated.  Had it not been for a few Māori who had earlier relocated themselves to Ranui Cove from the Chatham Islands, and who were able to supply the settlers with sufficient vegetables, things could have got much more serious a lot sooner. Eventually, however, the settlement failed and was abandoned after 3 years in 1852.

We wandered through the rata forest where the settlement once existed, but nature had taken its course and there was very little to see of any note. We visited the cemetery and pondered over the hardships and tragedies associated with some of the headstones (Images 74,75 and 76).

The Victoria tree was our next stop (Image 77). This is really a bit of early graffiti, carved into a rātā tree by the crew from the ship, Victoria. After the Grafton wrecked on Auckland Island in 1864, three men built and sailed a vessel to Stewart Island. The two men left on the island were subsequently rescued, which rallied state governments in Australia to search for more shipwreck victims, deploying the HMCS Victoria. In Erebus Cove, the trunk of a rātā tree was chiselled flat and an inscription was carved into the wood, reading: ‘H.M.C.S. VICTORIA NORMAN (Norman being the captain) IN SEARCH OF SHIPWRECKED PEOPLE OCT 13TH 1865’. The crew also released goats and rabbits on Enderby Island to provide food for castaways, but no further survivors were found.

One of the reasons we stopped here was to address an earlier report that the tree was suffering from serious rot due, at least partially, to the engraving. My assigned role was to plaster the tree with wood preservative, although I do not know how successful that has been.

Then it was off to Carnley Harbour at the southern end of the main island to visit Adams Island (100 sq. km. approx. 1/3 size of Great Barrier Is). I have to say, setting foot amongst the megaherbs on this island was truly mind blowing). The island is free of any introduced mammalian animals, it is as nature made it, and what an amazing treat  (Image 78, 79 and 80. It crossed my mind back then, that if we could only get rid of all the introduced animals from all the other islands in the Auckland group, we could have a new addition to the Seven Wonders of the World.  

Wading through the megaherbs was scary as we were confronted by several resting sealions not appreciating being disturbed from their rest (Image 81). However, a delightful surprise was spotting the Auckland Island snipe - now recognised as an endemic subspecies (Image 82). These birds are most often seen after being disturbed at close range, when they rise a few metres on whirring wings and fly up to 50 metres before pitching down into cover. When venturing up into the tussock lands, we also came across breeding pairs of Wandering albatrosses (Image 83 and 84). This is the bird with the largest wingspan in the world, at 3.5 metres. What a privilege!

Our last stop was across the narrow Victoria Passage to a huge colony of breeding White-capped albatrosses on the southern tip of the main Auckland Island. Shy or white-capped albatrosses are the most abundant species in New Zealand, with the biggest population – around 75,000 pairs. (Image 85).

And, that was essentially it. On our journey back to the salvage site, discussions began about the immediate future of the salvage operation.  The charter hire of the Acheron was about to expire and the sea conditions were still unsuitable for diving and yet - no gold. Of the 21 days at anchor at the dive site, only 7 days had been suitable for diving.  Of those 7 days, only 3 hours were spent actually looking for the gold. The calculated decision had been made that the most likely spot for the gold to be held aboard would in a safe within in the captain’s cabin.  The divers linked up all the visible iron bits of the ship with rope to gain a crude iron outline of the ship’s hull in order to best locate the position of the captain’s cabin – determined from plans of a sister ship. They then concentrated their efforts on removing the numerous giant boulders that had collapsed onto the wreck from the cliffs over the last 110 years, by carefully positioning large airbags and then inflating them with compressed air from the ship to remove them off the chosen search site.  That process took all but the last three hours. They had found a number of small items including a ship’s chronometer that they were reasonably confident came from the General Grant (Image 86).

Commander Gratton and his divers pleaded with the two financiers on board to extend the charter for a few more days (Image 87). The two retired to their cabin to determine their position and I recall the tension while we waited in the saloon for their answer. Unfortunately, it was not to be for the salvage team. When the financiers returned, their position had not moved – we were on our way home. 

On the evening of our departure, Commander Gratton very generously presented me with a brass door hook recovered from the wreck in acknowledgement of my time aboard. That little piece of real treasure remains very special to me to this day.

As we departed the Heads, I reflected back on my time in the Auckland Islands (Image 88).  It had been a very moving experience and had affected me profoundly and positively. I felt good at leaving, though, for the simple reason that, despite enjoying every second of my time there, I knew I was an intruder.  This was a land where nature had been and always will be in charge.  Attempts by humans to tame this land had failed, and it felt good and right to be leaving the island the way we found it and to its rightful occupiers (Image 89).

Post script.

1. Between the rabbits and the cattle, the Enderby Island habitat had taken a beating over many years and so a decision was made by the Department of Conservation to remove them – firstly the rabbits in 1991-93 and the cattle in 1992-93. Goats had earlier been removed from the main island in 1989-1991. Considerable protest occurred back in New Zealand over the cattle removal based on the animals’ uniqueness - having evolved in isolation for 100 years and even adapting to eating seaweed.  Sperm from 16 bulls and eggs from females were collected to maintain a viable herd back in New Zealand.  Unfortunately, all attempts at fertilization failed and it looked as if the breed had become extinct.  However, in early 1993, in preparation for removing the final rabbits, a solitary cow and her heifer were found, having missed the earlier cull.  They were brought back to New Zealand and, although the heifer died, the cow (called Lucy), after 35 attempts, produced Derby the bull using the embryo transplant method.  In 2006, a total of 13 clones had been produced from Lucy. A breeding campaign has continued using the cloned females and frozen sperm taken from the Enderby Island bulls prior to being destroyed (Image 90). In 1993, after 130 years of isolation, the French Blue rabbits, along with mice, were removed from both Enderby and Rose Islands using poison. Forty-nine rabbits were captured and brought back to New Zealand and they survive in captivity to this day thanks to the Rare Breeders’ Society.
2. Following removal of cattle and rabbits, the recovery of the grasslands on Enderby Island between my first visit in 1975 and subsequent visits on expedition cruise ships, has been spectacular. When the rabbits and cattle were there, the grass cover was as short as bowling greens and the sandy soils full of warrens that trapped and killed thousands of sealion pups. However, the vegetation is now lush and dense, providing great safety and shelter for sealion pups (Image 91)and other fauna, especially land bird species (Images 92 and 93). The huge and unique megaherb colonies that were once only able to be seen on Adams Island can now also be seen on Enderby and Rose Islands. They have become a special highlight for the passengers on the expedition cruise ships that have been permitted to visit by the Department of Conservation (Image 94).
   
   
3. Sadly, the same can’t be said for the New Zealand sealion.  It has continued into serious decline. In 2024, the New Zealand sealion population was estimated to be around 12,000 individuals, and the species is now considered “Nationally Vulnerable”. Threats continue - diseases, fishery interactions, pup mortality, food availability and human impacts. Over the many years that I have returned to Enderby Island I have become increasingly concerned at the steady decline of the number of harems at Sandy Bay during the breeding season (Image 95). It needs to be noted that, for every cow that dies from these causes, two others die - the one that she is still mothering on land and the one she carries in her uterus.
   
   
4. Subsequent to our gold recovery attempt back in 1975, later salvage expeditions led by Mr Bill Day were of the view that the wreck we were diving on was not the General Grant but the Rifleman, which was lost between Hobart and London in 1833. Whether Bill Day or any other unofficial salvage expedition has been successful in recovering any gold (if it is the General Grant), I do not know.
   
   
5. My participation on the General Grant gold recovery expedition developed another life of its own. Back in the 1990s, I was approached by an expedition cruise company, who had heard of my time on the island, to be engaged as an on-board guest lecturer on an expedition cruise to the sub-Antarctic Islands. I gladly accepted the role and, since then, I have enjoyed 30+ trips with several companies, primarily as an on-board naturalist, on expedition cruises around New Zealand and especially the sub-Antarctic Islands, including the Australian-administered Macquarie Island.
6. Eco-tourism has become very popular in the southern oceans throughout this century (Image 96). However, human impacts need to be carefully monitored to ensure that all the natural eco-systems remain unaffected. I am pleased to say that, in my view, the Department of Conservation is doing a good job in keeping control of the numbers of permits issued to land on the islands and to ensure the ships’ crews are diligent in their biodiversity checks (seeds, food) of passengers prior to every landing, and insisting on compliance with the 5-metre rule when in proximity of wildlife ashore. In my experience the expedition crews I have worked with are genuinely committed to ensuring that their passengers do nothing that would have a negative impact on the natural eco-system.
7. I am delighted that the Department of Conservation is well under way with the planning and accessing funding for an operation to remove pigs, cats and mice from the main Auckland Island (The Maukahuka Project). If successful this will be huge in restoring the megaherb fields and to dramatically improve land and seabird recovery.
8. The elephant that continues to remain in the room, though, is the impacts on the islands from the commercial fishing industry. The consistent message I have heard from many scientists who lecture on these expedition ships in return for free transport to and from the islands, whether it be the sub-Antarctic Islands, South Georgia or Antarctica, is that commercial fishing is having a profoundly detrimental impact on the marine eco-systems and the wildlife that depend on them. So many species are hanging in the balance simply because their food supply is continuing to decline through over-fishing (Image 97).