Uploaded September 2023 | Updated September 2026, 1 week ago
Pest Free Banks Peninsula are working to protect the biodiversity of Banks Peninsula Te Pātaka o Rākaihautū through the eradication of all animal pests by 2050.
For a piece of land without the water border of an island sanctuary or the predator-proof fence of a land sanctuary, it is a bold goal, first laid out in 2016 in the 2050 Ecological Vision for Banks Peninsula developed by the Banks Peninsula Conservation Trust in conjunction with the local community. Two years later, Pest Free Banks Peninsula was formerly established by 14 founding signatories, including local councils, rūnanga and the Department of Conservation.
“We are amongst some others trying to do it for the first time, so we are all learning together,” PFBP project manager Sarah Wilson tells Frank Film. “Nobody knows how to do this.”
Banks Peninsula Te Pātaka o Rākaihautū is an ancient volcanic landscape, covering around 115,000 hectares of farmland, pockets of native bush, plantation forests, cliffs and beaches encroaching on the edges of Ōtautahi Christchurch. It is a unique landscape rich with native flora and fauna including tūī, ruru (morepork), pīwakawaka (fantail), kororā (white flippered little blue penguin), hoiho (yellow-eyed penguin, tītī (sooty shearwater), waterfowl, jewelled geckos and spotted skinks. At least six plant species and more than 60 invertebrate species, including the rare beaked moss moth, Gadira leucophthalma, do not exist anywhere else in the world.
Threatening this biodiversity are invasive populations of rats, mice, stoats, ferrets, weasels, hedgehogs, feral cats and an estimated 460,000 possums.
“When you look at possums and rats and stoats and everything else put together, the damage they do to the whole ecosystem is pretty significant,” says PFBP operations manager Tim Sjoberg. “If you start reducing one native species versus another then you are really throwing the balance of the whole ecosystem out of whack.”
But the peninsula’s near-island topography is an advantage, allowing the eradication programme to move steadily from the coastal edges on the east and south towards the west, hopefully without losing advances to reinfestation.
To work within available funds, half of which comes from Government company Predator Free 2050 Ltd, it is beginning in two elimination sites.
The appropriately named Wildside Project covers 23,000 hectares of steep gullies and towering sea cliffs on the south eastern corner of the peninsula. While aimed at feral cats, ferrets, stoats and weasels, its primary target is possums. Sjoberg takes Frank Film through the stunning beauty of the DOC-owned Nikau Palm Gully, pointing out trees etched with claw marks and saplings stripped of foliage. “The damage they do to the forest structure by eating the most palatable species, the absolute appetite for invertebrates and everything else – these guys have an impact on every cycle of the ecosystem.”
The eradication programme here relies on self-resetting battery powered traps in more inaccessible areas, over 90 live capture traps laid on roadsides and in public parks and backyards and poison bait stations using encapsulated cyanide.
Unlike more remote eco-sanctuaries around the country, care is required around private dwellings, public walking tracks and water-take areas but in setting traps, checking trap lines and monitoring the area for reinvasion, community support, says Sjoberg, is vital.
“We are working in people’s backyards, on their farms – there is some public land but the bulk is private land so having that buy-in from the community is absolutely critical. In this country if you walk away from it without doing any control, you’ve lost all that work, all that mahi, you’ve done – they’ll be back.”
Sjoberg estimates the programme has already killed around 4000 possums over the last two years; cameras in 20 sites around this remote area show a dramatic decrease in possum numbers in the last six months alone.
“A few more to go but we are learning every day and we are accelerating every day."
"If we are valued by the community, and we undertake this safely and professionally, then I am confident funding will come and we will be able to scale up and work across that landscape.”
Credits:
Producer/Director/Cameraman/Interviewer: Gerard Smyth
Editor: Oliver Dawe
Writer: Sally Blundell
Production Manager: Jo Ffitch
Sound Design/Mix: Chris Sinclair
Pest Free Banks Peninsula are working to protect the biodiversity of Banks Peninsula Te Pātaka o Rākaihautū through the eradication of all animal pests by 2050.
For a piece of land without the water border of an island sanctuary or the predator-proof fence of a land sanctuary, it is a bold goal, first laid out in 2016 in the 2050 Ecological Vision for Banks Peninsula developed by the Banks Peninsula Conservation Trust in conjunction with the local community. Two years later, Pest Free Banks Peninsula was formerly established by 14 founding signatories, including local councils, rūnanga and the Department of Conservation.
“We are amongst some others trying to do it for the first time, so we are all learning together,” PFBP project manager Sarah Wilson tells Frank Film. “Nobody knows how to do this.”
Banks Peninsula Te Pātaka o Rākaihautū is an ancient volcanic landscape, covering around 115,000 hectares of farmland, pockets of native bush, plantation forests, cliffs and beaches encroaching on the edges of Ōtautahi Christchurch. It is a unique landscape rich with native flora and fauna including tūī, ruru (morepork), pīwakawaka (fantail), kororā (white flippered little blue penguin), hoiho (yellow-eyed penguin, tītī (sooty shearwater), waterfowl, jewelled geckos and spotted skinks. At least six plant species and more than 60 invertebrate species, including the rare beaked moss moth, Gadira leucophthalma, do not exist anywhere else in the world.
Threatening this biodiversity are invasive populations of rats, mice, stoats, ferrets, weasels, hedgehogs, feral cats and an estimated 460,000 possums.
“When you look at possums and rats and stoats and everything else put together, the damage they do to the whole ecosystem is pretty significant,” says PFBP operations manager Tim Sjoberg. “If you start reducing one native species versus another then you are really throwing the balance of the whole ecosystem out of whack.”
But the peninsula’s near-island topography is an advantage, allowing the eradication programme to move steadily from the coastal edges on the east and south towards the west, hopefully without losing advances to reinfestation.
To work within available funds, half of which comes from Government company Predator Free 2050 Ltd, it is beginning in two elimination sites.
The appropriately named Wildside Project covers 23,000 hectares of steep gullies and towering sea cliffs on the south eastern corner of the peninsula. While aimed at feral cats, ferrets, stoats and weasels, its primary target is possums. Sjoberg takes Frank Film through the stunning beauty of the DOC-owned Nikau Palm Gully, pointing out trees etched with claw marks and saplings stripped of foliage. “The damage they do to the forest structure by eating the most palatable species, the absolute appetite for invertebrates and everything else – these guys have an impact on every cycle of the ecosystem.”
The eradication programme here relies on self-resetting battery powered traps in more inaccessible areas, over 90 live capture traps laid on roadsides and in public parks and backyards and poison bait stations using encapsulated cyanide.
Unlike more remote eco-sanctuaries around the country, care is required around private dwellings, public walking tracks and water-take areas but in setting traps, checking trap lines and monitoring the area for reinvasion, community support, says Sjoberg, is vital.
“We are working in people’s backyards, on their farms – there is some public land but the bulk is private land so having that buy-in from the community is absolutely critical. In this country if you walk away from it without doing any control, you’ve lost all that work, all that mahi, you’ve done – they’ll be back.”
Sjoberg estimates the programme has already killed around 4000 possums over the last two years; cameras in 20 sites around this remote area show a dramatic decrease in possum numbers in the last six months alone.
“A few more to go but we are learning every day and we are accelerating every day."
"If we are valued by the community, and we undertake this safely and professionally, then I am confident funding will come and we will be able to scale up and work across that landscape.”
Credits:
Producer/Director/Cameraman/Interviewer: Gerard Smyth
Editor: Oliver Dawe
Writer: Sally Blundell
Production Manager: Jo Ffitch
Sound Design/Mix: Chris Sinclair

![Andris Apse: A life through the lens of landscape, loss and Latvia
Andris Apse is one of New Zealand’s greatest landscape photographers, yet his personal story reminds us that life itself can sometimes match the beauty and strangeness of our finest art.
As a five year-old, Apse came to this country from Latvia with his mother Kamilla - refugees fleeing the chaotic aftermath of WW2. The family had been separated, and Voldemars - Kamilla’s beloved husband and Andris’ father - was presumed dead. Some 45 years later, Apse recalls getting an urgent phone call from his mother. She had received a letter in handwriting she instantly recognised.
Talking candidly to Frank Film, Apse describes a life of experiences ranging from hunger and hardship to the eventual rewards of a career capturing the sublime beauty and mood of his beloved New Zealand landscapes.
The career-defining moment for Apse came about when a job with Forest Research first took him into Fiordland.
“We went over miles and miles of country where there were no people, just the sound of the birds, sound of the water and the sound of the vegetation blowing in the wind.
“I didn’t own a camera then, but I thought, ‘I’ve got to go back and buy a camera and come back to Fiordland, and show people what we’ve got here.’
“I became obsessed with it, really.”
The quality and distinctiveness of his photographs, and some timely sponsorship, meant Apse was ultimately able to become a full time landscape photographer.
This clear sense of purpose had been a long time coming. During the war, Andris’ parents and their infant son faced an uncertain future in frightening times.
“They were in their early twenties when they met and fell in love. Then I was born, and he had to go off to the Front.”
“They were torn apart, physically. And he saw me only once.”
The deep love between Apse’s father, Voldemars (Valdis), and mother Kamilla (Millija, is eloquently expressed in Voldermars’ letters and diary entries, excerpts from which Apse generously shares on camera.
Dear Millija, I am longing for you. Whenever you’re not with me, everything seems dark and gloomy.
After nearly five years in a refugee camp in Germany, with hunger as an ever-present companion, Apse and his mother were able to embark on a new life in New Zealand.
“We only had what my mother could carry, which was her bag of letters and me.”
“We were a solitary sort of partnership, mother and son. It was a very lonely existence for us. It was terrible really.”
After Kamilla remarried, Apse was not welcome by his stepfather at home, so he took himself off to forestry school in Nelson. He describes the stark reality of his alone-ness when, come holiday time, classmates were heading home, one by one, to their families.
“I pretended that I had family and friends because I didn’t want to be seen as a lone wolf.
“I’d watch them all go, and I was [always] going to get the next bus out, the next bus out…”
Ironically, there’s a link between Apse’s odyssey to New Zealand and his working methodology. The capacity for isolation and concentration has served his art well.
Ninety percent of his work, he tells Frank Film, goes into planning and exploring.
“I only take 20 photos a year, really. But I spend days researching locations, and trying to narrow down exactly where I have to stand - whether it’s here, there or a metre over there.”
The letter his mother received out of the blue from her dear Valdis changed everything.
“There was great joy. Initially.
“But 45 years is a lifetime, isn’t it. We knew that it was lifetime when we faced each other after the initial greetings and cheers.
“We realised that there was… a lifetime between us, which was quite sad.”
We can all be grateful though, for the life’s work Apse has created, regardless.
Producer/Director: Gerard Smyth
Editor: Oliver Dawe
Story Producer: Rose OConnor
Production Manager: Jo Ffitch
Sound Mix: Chris Sinclair
Production Asst: Romah Chorley
WATCH OTHER EPISODES HERE: https://frankfilm.co.nz/ Andris Apse: A life through the lens of landscape, loss and Latvia](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/P_8TJP0coE0/mqdefault.jpg)








