Uploaded May 2021 | Updated September 2026, 1 week ago
Its marshy waters are home to dozens of threatened species of bird, including the prized kōtuku, but New Zealand’s largest unmodified wetland is on fragile ground.
By Frank Film.
Sunrise over the Ōkārito Lagoon. It is an ancient and pristine landscape, stretching 3,200 hectares across estuary waters and brackish inlets, home to over 70 species of birds, many threatened.
On a flat-bottomed boat Paula Sheridan and Swade Finch, owners of Ōkārito Eco Boat tours, slide through watery channels shrouded by rainforest beneath the rumpled outline of Aoraki Mt Cook and Mt Tasman.
A lone kōtuku gazes through its reflection in search of food, one of a resident population of about 8-10 that stay here year round.
“They are stunning birds,” says Sheridan. “There's only about 180 in the country – this one we affectionately call Hieronius. This is such a good example of how birds thrive in places like this. The tidal flats here are really rich in food, that is what attracts them. There's just not so many of them left. After a time you do feel a sense of responsibility towards it.”
Ōkarito Lagoon, just north of Franz Josef on the West Coast, is the country’s largest unmodified wetland. Over a single hour Sheridan points to a large flock of tarāpuka black-billed gulls (the most threatened gull species in the world), royal spoonbills, Caspian terns, oystercatchers, cormorants and tara iti, white-fronted or fairy terns. Tūturiwhatu, banded dotterels, the smallest wading bird on the Lagoon, skitter across the shore line.
But the pristine state is as much to do with geographic remoteness and community perseverance as it is legal protection.
Although we have already lost 90% of our wetlands since European settlement, and even though the Lagoon borders on the Te Wāhipounamu South West New Zealand World Heritage Area and the Westland Tai Poutini National Park, the water itself is not protected under the Ramsar Convention on Wetlands, an intergovernmental treaty for the conservation and wise use of wetlands of international importance to which New Zealand is a signatory party.
Such recognition would still allow duck shooting, fishing and shellfish-collecting but local proposals to have the Lagoon included on the “Ramsar List” – the last one in 2017 – seem to fall into the too-hard basket for the small community, population 30.
“Is there a diversity of opinion about the protection of this water?” asks Frank Film producer Gerard Smyth.
Retired forestry scientist and local trapper Ian James agrees Ōkārito Lagoon is of national park quality but says the community has worked with local Ngāi Tahu to make the area a mātaitai reserve. Mātaitai reserves recognise and provide for traditional fishing through local management. They allow customary and recreational fishing but usually don't allow commercial fishing.
“That protects the land and waterways for the environment and the people, and no commercial activity is involved,” says James. “It works very well. The flounder fishery is in good health, the shellfish are in good health. If one of the fisheries was being over-exploited we can put a rāhui on that fishery to allow it to recover.”
James is also working to bring down the number of introduced pests plaguing the region. For seven years he has been trapping rats, stoats and possums.
“It has certainly helped keep bird numbers up – no question. I’ve been getting 80-95 per cent of the pests with the traps, but until we get ZIP here there will still be a few left behind.”
ZIP – Zero Invasive Predators – is the government-run programme initiated in 2019 in partnership with the Next Foundation to permanently remove possums, rats and stoats from large mainland areas of New Zealand, in keeping with Predator Free 2050 goals. The programme was successfully launched in the Perth River Valley, a 12,000 hectare wilderness area inland from the Lagoon, using “boots on the ground” labour alongside innovative trapping, baiting and detection techniques.
This year, through Predator Free South Westland, it is embarking on an ambitious plan to rid about 110,000 hectares of predators.
“We hope to eliminate every rat, every stoat and every possum,” says James. “I am confident they will get there – they have the resources and the people but it is not going to be easy.”
The Lagoon, and its remarkable wildlife, needs all the help it can get.
“I want to think it is always going to be this way,” says Sheridan, “but sometimes you have to do a little bit of work to make sure that it is. We have to think ahead and not take anything for granted.”
“We can look after it,” says Finch. “It’ll be here so others will get to enjoy it. We just have to put the time and the effort and the energy in.”
Producer: Gerard Smyth
Editor: Gaylene Barnes
Its marshy waters are home to dozens of threatened species of bird, including the prized kōtuku, but New Zealand’s largest unmodified wetland is on fragile ground.
By Frank Film.
Sunrise over the Ōkārito Lagoon. It is an ancient and pristine landscape, stretching 3,200 hectares across estuary waters and brackish inlets, home to over 70 species of birds, many threatened.
On a flat-bottomed boat Paula Sheridan and Swade Finch, owners of Ōkārito Eco Boat tours, slide through watery channels shrouded by rainforest beneath the rumpled outline of Aoraki Mt Cook and Mt Tasman.
A lone kōtuku gazes through its reflection in search of food, one of a resident population of about 8-10 that stay here year round.
“They are stunning birds,” says Sheridan. “There's only about 180 in the country – this one we affectionately call Hieronius. This is such a good example of how birds thrive in places like this. The tidal flats here are really rich in food, that is what attracts them. There's just not so many of them left. After a time you do feel a sense of responsibility towards it.”
Ōkarito Lagoon, just north of Franz Josef on the West Coast, is the country’s largest unmodified wetland. Over a single hour Sheridan points to a large flock of tarāpuka black-billed gulls (the most threatened gull species in the world), royal spoonbills, Caspian terns, oystercatchers, cormorants and tara iti, white-fronted or fairy terns. Tūturiwhatu, banded dotterels, the smallest wading bird on the Lagoon, skitter across the shore line.
But the pristine state is as much to do with geographic remoteness and community perseverance as it is legal protection.
Although we have already lost 90% of our wetlands since European settlement, and even though the Lagoon borders on the Te Wāhipounamu South West New Zealand World Heritage Area and the Westland Tai Poutini National Park, the water itself is not protected under the Ramsar Convention on Wetlands, an intergovernmental treaty for the conservation and wise use of wetlands of international importance to which New Zealand is a signatory party.
Such recognition would still allow duck shooting, fishing and shellfish-collecting but local proposals to have the Lagoon included on the “Ramsar List” – the last one in 2017 – seem to fall into the too-hard basket for the small community, population 30.
“Is there a diversity of opinion about the protection of this water?” asks Frank Film producer Gerard Smyth.
Retired forestry scientist and local trapper Ian James agrees Ōkārito Lagoon is of national park quality but says the community has worked with local Ngāi Tahu to make the area a mātaitai reserve. Mātaitai reserves recognise and provide for traditional fishing through local management. They allow customary and recreational fishing but usually don't allow commercial fishing.
“That protects the land and waterways for the environment and the people, and no commercial activity is involved,” says James. “It works very well. The flounder fishery is in good health, the shellfish are in good health. If one of the fisheries was being over-exploited we can put a rāhui on that fishery to allow it to recover.”
James is also working to bring down the number of introduced pests plaguing the region. For seven years he has been trapping rats, stoats and possums.
“It has certainly helped keep bird numbers up – no question. I’ve been getting 80-95 per cent of the pests with the traps, but until we get ZIP here there will still be a few left behind.”
ZIP – Zero Invasive Predators – is the government-run programme initiated in 2019 in partnership with the Next Foundation to permanently remove possums, rats and stoats from large mainland areas of New Zealand, in keeping with Predator Free 2050 goals. The programme was successfully launched in the Perth River Valley, a 12,000 hectare wilderness area inland from the Lagoon, using “boots on the ground” labour alongside innovative trapping, baiting and detection techniques.
This year, through Predator Free South Westland, it is embarking on an ambitious plan to rid about 110,000 hectares of predators.
“We hope to eliminate every rat, every stoat and every possum,” says James. “I am confident they will get there – they have the resources and the people but it is not going to be easy.”
The Lagoon, and its remarkable wildlife, needs all the help it can get.
“I want to think it is always going to be this way,” says Sheridan, “but sometimes you have to do a little bit of work to make sure that it is. We have to think ahead and not take anything for granted.”
“We can look after it,” says Finch. “It’ll be here so others will get to enjoy it. We just have to put the time and the effort and the energy in.”
Producer: Gerard Smyth
Editor: Gaylene Barnes










![Can strong wool make a comeback?
Once upon a time, strong wool was a moneymaker for New Zealand. It was the golden fleece, with farmers rumoured to have paid off their mortgages in one wool clip during the boom of the ‘50s. Retired fourth generation sheep farmer Murray Urquhart remembers family tales from the notorious boom. “My uncle was the biggest single tax payer in Canterbury for three years in a row,” Murray tells Frank Film, and explains that this was mostly because of the US Army needing to keep their soldiers warm during the Korean War.
These days, though, it’s costing many farmers more to shear their strong wool sheep than they can get back for the wool itself. As Highfield Station farmer Michael Northcote points out, wool has almost become a by-product of meat - a nuisance, even. “Because there’s just no money in it,” Michael says. “It costs us $9.30 per sheep to shear them, and we’d probably end up getting about $8 to $9 worth of wool.”
Today, it’s only the wool from our Merino sheep and other finer wool breeds which are fetching farmers a decent price. These breeds, with their thinner, softer fibres, make up only a small percentage of the national flock, but contribute to a large part of the market. More on that later, though. The wool Michael is talking about is strong wool - also known as coarse wool, for its thick fibres. Of the 26 million odd sheep in New Zealand, 80% are strong wool sheep. They’re well-suited to most of the country’s climate, and are bred more for their meat than their fleece.
So what happened to the market for strong wool? In short, synthetics. As Hadleigh Smith from The NZ Merino Company explains, plastics took over everything. Strong wool, which is warm, fire resistant, water-repellent and naturally sourced, was squeezed out by a cheaper counterpart. “After the glory days of the 50’s and 60’s, there was a boom in synthetic production, and that material has been used everywhere, from flooring through to fabrics and in clothing,” says Hadleigh, whose role as market development manager for strong wool necessitates an intimate knowledge of its history.
So all this has put strong wool in dire straits. But with demand for natural fibres on the rise, there’s a movement to save it. NZ Merino, among other organisations, is turning its attention to strong wool. This renaissance, as Hadleigh says, may well be similar to the merino success story. “Our Merino growers were really struggling [20 years ago],” he tells Frank Film, explaining that the industry came together to create a higher market value for their product and give farmers more certainty. This was mainly through the production, branding and marketing of high end outdoor clothing, with brands like Icebreaker.
According to Hadleigh, the future of strong wool depends on the same kind of innovation - and it’s a future he firmly believes in. He’s not the only one. Bremworth carpets have switched from synthetics back to 100% wool, which CEO Greg Smith says is in response to increasing consumer demand. “The synthetic carpet that we made doesn’t go away, it just ends up in landfill. That is a problem,” Greg says. ‘Wool’s the best fibre for carpet, it’s as simple as that.”
Others are pushing it further. Inventor and entrepreneur Logan Williams is on a mission to replace plastic with wool. Through his development of strong wool polymers, Logan has been working with NZ Merino to create woollen kayaks, chilly bins and knives. Starting with the humble beginnings of a toastie machine, Logan melted down wool with PLA, a bio-plastic made from cornstarch.
“It looked like a piece of naan bread,” he confesses, but this rough start quickly evolved into the pellets of industrially compostable plastic-like material which he now sells to manufacturers under his company Shear Edge. Meanwhile, Wool Source, a subsidiary of Wool Research NZ, is busy breaking wool down into fine pigments which can be used in lipsticks, shampoos and other cosmetics.
So while the price is still low, there’s no shortage of believers. Michael at Highfield Station is one of many loyal farmers with wool in their blood, and he says he has every confidence that strong wool will come back. “We will stick with it,” Michael says. “It’s a hell of a good product and it’s totally undervalued.”
Join us as we explore what’s to become of New Zealand’s golden fleece. Watch the film at frankfilm.co.nz.
Accreditations
Images:
Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand (1/2-049602-F. )
Video:
Archives New Zealand Te Rua Mahara o te Kāwanatanga
Material preserved and made available by Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision.
Credits:
Director/Series Producer: Gerard Smyth
Editor: Tracey Jury
Story Producer/Researcher: Georgia Merton
Cameraman: Gerard Smyth & Romah Chorley
Production Manager: Jo Ffitch
Sound Mix: Chris Sinclair
Colour grade: Andrew Todd Can strong wool make a comeback?](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/bhBUZPC1NRM/mqdefault.jpg)