Many Russellites might be surprised to learn that Weka are rare birds, particularly in the North Island. Pycroft, the station master at Opua, wrote a survey of local birds in 1895, commenting that Weka were ‘common on the Russell Peninsula’. The last one recorded, before reintroduction, was in 1940.

It’s estimated that there are around 11,000 North Island Weka (a different subspecies from those on the South Island), and they appear to be declining. Compare this with 26,000 brown kiwi. Weka are only hanging on in a few places in the North Island. We have them in Russell only because they were successfully reintroduced here in 2002 by Russell Landcare Trust.

Weka are a member of the rail family, related to Auckland Island and Banded Rails, and to the Spotless and Marsh Crakes; but are considerably larger than all of these. They’re also more distantly related to pukeko and takahe and, like the latter, cannot fly.

Generally described as ‘secretive’ birds, those around Russell have become quite habituated to humans and are encountered fairly often; indeed, it’s not that unusual to see them with their coal-black chicks. We also hear them frequently, particularly at dawn and dusk when they call to each other and pairs duet together. The male’s call is slightly lower and slower than the female’s, but it’s not easy to tell them apart when they’re duetting.

Many visitors confuse them with kiwi and are disappointed that this wasn’t the iconic bird that they saw or heard; in fact, they have actually encountered something still rarer.

Weka mate for life and are caring parents, and they keep their chicks close by until they’re ready to look after themselves. Their habit of taking the young of other birds to feed their own babies upsets many observers, but in fact Weka play an important part in the ecosystem, as do all predators.

They’re not exactly discriminating feeders (trampers in the South Island have seen them feeding around long drops!), and will investigate most things that come their way. This omnivorous diet perhaps helps explain their infamous curiosity – if you’re prepared to eat most things, you’ll be drawn to novelty. Attracted to red, yellow and orange, this might also explain why they frequent gardens in Russell.

They’re disliked by many gardeners because they investigate newly-planted seedlings. This is partly because the disturbed soil is a great place for them to find food, and as they rummage about, they incidentally dig up the seedlings. However, because they’re omnivorous, I dare say they enjoy some of the same plants that we like to eat.

Maybe setting up a small exclosure for our precious vegetables is a small price to pay for sharing our garden with one of the planet’s rarer birds.

Weka also eat introduced frogs, but they avoid native ones, even when presented with one. It’s possible the frogs secrete a noxious substance which Weka don’t like (but which, sadly, doesn’t seem to deter introduced predators). Studies of their stomach contents show they happily scavenge dead animals, such as possums, and appear to prey on rats. They also appreciate mice, which might work in their favour in the future.

At present, their predatory habits mean that in spite of their being rare, they’re hardly ever included in sanctuaries. Perhaps, in due course, there’ll be a place for them, as a prime predator of mice (which are very difficult to eradicate on the mainland). However, they’d have to be monitored; Weka have been known to gorge on mice to the point that they will die from not being able to deal with all the fur in their guts. Remember that they evolved without mammals to prey on.

Unfortunately, Weka are themselves predated and are severely impacted by cats, dogs and ferrets and, until they were protected, by human beings, who used to enjoy eating ‘wood hens’. They played an important role in Māori culture, hunted for their meat, feathers for cloaks, and as a source of oil. It didn’t take long for Pākehā to copy the locals, and although Weka’s demise hasn’t been fully explained, being taken for food can’t have helped.

Generally, they’re well able to look after themselves. An adult Weka can easily see off a weasel or a rat and have been videoed fighting off a stoat. However, ferrets, cats and dogs are too big for them to defend themselves against. They’re also occasionally taken by Australian Harriers and New Zealand falcons. No doubt the now-extinct Haast’s Eagle, Laughing Owl, and Eyles’s Harrier ate them as a tasty snack, and possibly so did the Adzebill.

Many attempts have been made to reintroduce Weka into various parts of the country, but these have rarely been successful. Indeed, the ones that we see around Russell are the result of a second reintroduction. Possibly one of the reasons these fail is that the birds seem to be home lovers; one Weka took just three weeks to walk from its release site in the Waitākere Ranges to Tāneatua 300 km away – quite a feat for a flightless bird. It was heading for its home near Gisborne.

They’re also excellent swimmers, which may explain their presence on some islands (although they were introduced to quite a few, apparently to keep Kiore down). They’re unwelcome on Maud Island, which is kept predator free, but in 1978, three Weka from there were given numbered bands before being released several kilometres away on the mainland. The trio was back on the island within days, after a long trudge and a 900-metre swim against current.

Birds of such determination and character deserve our admiration and respect. Let us rejoice in Russell’s Weka and support the efforts of people involved in conservation on their behalf.