THE Otago Peninsula juts out 31 miles from the bottom right-hand corner of New Zealand’s South Island like an outstretched arm trailing in the chilly, blue waters of the southern Pacific Ocean.
At the end of the peninsula lies Taiaroa Head and it’s here on the tussocky, windswept headland that a colony of over 100 royal albatrosses have made their home for nearly 60 years.
What makes this colony unlike any other in the world, is that, while all other albatross colonies are on isolated specks of land scattered across these desolate waters, the one at Taiaroa Head can be reached in less than an hour by car from the city of Dunedin, making it one of New Zealand’s top eco-tourist destinations.
Along with 30 or so other visitors from around the world, I had been waiting patiently for almost all of our allotted hour in the sun-filled albatross visitor centre on Taiaroa Head for just one of the 20 or so albatrosses that were stood resolutely still a little distance in front of us to take to the sky.
Although these bigger than expected birds are indeed impressive to look at even when they’re not doing much apart from taking it easy on land, the allure of the albatross is its legendary flight.
After an hour’s wait we were starting to resign ourselves to the probability that the only flying albatrosses would be those on the centre’s video, when one of the birds finally decided it was time to take to the sky.
With three flaps of its colossal wings and a short take-off run, the albatross was airborne, leaving behind its cumbersome, lumbering land characteristics to become a creature that in air is quite possibly the most sleek and graceful in the world.
Quickly gaining height, the albatross swiftly headed out to sea, but then to our delight, it arched slowly high in the sky before heading back – skimming the ground as it thundered past us to a click of a multitude of camera shutters.
On its second approach to the visitor centre though, the albatross came to a rapid and virtual halt. This immense bird remained motionless in the brilliant blue of the mid-summer afternoon sky some five metres above the ground, close to the visitor centre. And as we watched open mouthed, it felt as though normal time had been suspended.
Held aloft as if on invisible strings, the ocean breeze gently ruffled the downy feathers of the albatross’ brilliant white chest. Tiny movements of its giant three-metre wings responded to minute changes in the direction and strength of the breeze, keeping the bird effortlessly still as it cast its clear, dark eye over the empty vastness of the southern Pacific Ocean that is its home for most of the year.
We remained silently frozen, fearful that the slightest noise or movement would shatter the fragility of the spell that this mighty bird had managed to construct in what was in all likelihood, less than 2mins.
Then suddenly it was over. Without warning the albatross swooped down, landed and once again adopted its earth-bound persona as it waddled over to join its mates.
And with that it was time to leave the visitor centre and as we filed out chatting into the blinding, New Zealand summer sunshine, we quickly concluded that though brief, the memory of this albatross encounter would stay with us all for many years to come.
TABLE: Otago Peninsula: Taiaroa Head is home to over 100 royal albatrosses