The heavy rain of the last few days has me thinking about the wetland here at Ruamāhanga Farm, and how much it has transformed over recent years.
The first wetland I ever saw, many years ago, was dry and rather boring — hardly a drop of water in sight. Five years ago, when we started our own wetland project by excluding stock, ours was just as dry. At the time, we joked that calling it a “wetland” was a bit like the story of the emperor’s new clothes.
What has amazed me, especially over this last year, is watching the wetland take on a life of its own. There’s now far more water across the whole eight-hectare area, all year round. Helped by the right planting, the water is holding , braiding through the land and beginning to form permanent pools.
Volunteers and children from Kahutara Primary School planting
kahikatea among the carex grass.
Last week, I had the privilege of being at the head of the wetland, watching a group of children from Kahutara School. They were there with Rachel, from the charity Mountains to Sea Wellington, pulling up a hīnaki — a long eel-catching net left out overnight. To everyone’s delight, it held plenty of bullies and two small eels, each about a foot long. Rachel told me they were probably around 15 years old, and could live to be 90. I’ve lived at Ruamāhanga Farm for over 50 years, and I never knew we had eels here too. I was glad to hear that once they’d been counted and measured, they were gently lowered onto the bank and slithered straight back into the water.
Yvonne Riddiford, 101 years, on her way to view an afternoon
of wetland planting and eel monitoring
By setting the area aside from farming in other words no more cropping or grazing, it feels as though we’ve given it permission to return to its original purpose, and to find new ones besides. My eight-year-old great-grandson, Louis, loves coming to stay with us at the farm. It gives me real pleasure to see him covered in algae and beaming from ear to ear, because I know exactly where he’s been. Spending time in the wetland, immersed in those now-permanent pools, has become one of his favourite things to do.
Louis in the wetland
So often in life, I’ve watched nature get pushed into a straitjacket. It’s lovely to see what happens when it’s finally released.
Post script: Overnight since I wrote this blog the Ruamāhanga river has burst its banks and a lot of the farm including the wetland are completely submerged in water. Our plantings will certainly receive a big drink and I hope recent plantings will not have been washed away.
Words by Yvonne Riddiford