MAJESTIC MUSIC Through a long white cloud in the remote expanse of the South Pacific Ocean, Coast is an epic adventure around NZ. We're on a voyage of discovery along the margins of a country that's a newcomer on the terrestrial stage. These islands were forged in the furnace of earthly forces, mega earthquakes, marauding glaciers and furious volcanoes. DRAMATIC MUSIC You get a real sense here, when you look at this kind of activity, that this is the part of the young planet. You know, this is the planet being like an` an adolescent teenager. First discovered less than a thousand years ago by extraordinary Polynesian navigators, followed by the Europeans 500 years later, Aotearoa is everything to all comers. A fresh, majestic landscape of cloud-break summits and sheltering bays. Tall, temperate and pastoral, a modern nation in full flourish. And it's for that reason that the whole place feels active and alive. For an archaeologist and historian like me, it doesn't get any better than this. Oh my gosh, get away from me, you horrible big beast. (LAUGHS) 16,000km of dynamic coastal stories to uncover with an expert and enthusiastic team. Esteemed geologist Hamish Campbell, marine biologist Jacky Geurts, author Riria Hotere and marine archaeologist Matt Carter. Together we explore the rugged Deep South, diverse top of the south, the volatile East Cape, the supercity of Auckland, the historical Far North, and we begin in Fiordland, in the remote southern extremes of NZ. DRAMATIC MUSIC Fiordland is defined by its mountains and by its coastline. It's a place that demands endurance. Lives are lived here in the teeth of the wet, stormy weather of the Roaring Forties. It's a remote landscape, and it's about the always thundering seas. DRAMATIC MUSIC Milford Sound, at the top of Fiordland National Park, is one of the last wild frontiers on the planet. Over there is Mitre Peak. Now, that is one of the most photographed lumps of rock in this area. But where I'm headed is territory that has seldom, if ever, felt the intrusive weight of a human foot. Most visitors will only glimpse the surface of Fiordland's 3 million acres of glacial valleys that show the towering mountains draped in dense bush. It's wilderness with a view that lifts the spirits above and beyond. ADVENTUROUS MUSIC In this opening episode, Riria Hotere treads carefully in a once-busy inlet of death. This is humpback whale oil. Whoa. (LAUGHS) Hamish Campbell lays eyes on mankind's most wanted. Can you see the tail of black sand there? Yes, oh, there's some gold. Yeah, there could be a bit of gold there too. Jacky Geurts discovers a miracle of nature. Why do they call it black coral, Miles? It's white. Oh yeah. And I'm shocked that size does matter. Thought that was what you were after ` the bigger, the better. No. That's not worth anything. We're in Fiordland and... ...this is Coast NZ. DRAMATIC MUSIC Captions by Tom Pedlar. Edited by Pippa Jefferies. www.able.co.nz Captions were made possible with funding from NZ On Air. Copyright Able 2016 Our Fiordland journey takes us from Milford to idyllic Doubtful and Dusky Sounds, down to remote Preservation Inlet and Puysegur Point. RELAXING MUSIC On a day like today, it's all too easy to be beguiled by the loveliness of this place. With the sun on it and the sea calm, it's like a lost world or a heaven on earth. But don't be fooled. Life here was always a challenge. The forests, the rugged coastline, submerged reefs and rocks. But for all that, and for a short while, this was the focus of all European activity in NZ. PLAYFUL MUSIC In 1773, Captain James Cook on HMS Resolution limped into Dusky Sound after having braved the fog, sleet and icebergs of the Antarctic. The crew spent two months here, repairing the ship, observing flora and fauna, surveying the harbour and refreshing supplies. Cook was particularly impressed by the bay's abundant resources. He wrote in detail about a particularly bountiful seal hunt, where they took 10 seals in an afternoon. It was a hot tip for a dozen intrepid sealers who arrived here two decades later. The ends of the earth were never too far for these men, who were often deserters and escaped or emancipated convicts. They lived by their wits and hunted seals for their meat, oil and skin. Everything they ever needed was here. Seals, whales, the oil, you know, trees, birds, just, uh, like a huge seafood chowder of` of, um, resources, you know. Today Department of Conservation officer Pete Young protects the fur seal population in Dusky Sound, a pristine archipelago of islands and hidden inlets. We're heading for Luncheon Cove in Anchor Island, where merchant mariner William Raven, at the helm of the whaling ship Britannia, dropped off a dozen sealers in 1792 and left them to their own devices and, inadvertently, to make their own mark in NZ's history. INQUISITIVE MUSIC Yeah, imagine if I left you here now just with a saw and a few provisions and said, 'We'll be back in a couple of years, boys, so make the most of it.' They were made from different stuff, those` those people, though, weren't they? Yeah. Tough. Yeah. So this is it? This is it. Site of the first European house. Yeah. The house apparently was just in here somewhere. In that little` It's so tiny as well, just a small patch of flat ground. Yeah. It's like being dropped off in the Garden of Eden. It's like starting again. Yeah. A long way from England. While the remains of the dwelling have been swallowed by the forest, there is evidence the men who lived here for almost a year had a plan B just in case no one came back for them. This ship they built was a 70-ton boat. It wasn't a small boat. And you can imagine manhandling 70 ton` 70 tons? That's a good ship. It's a substantial` substantial boat. And you've got no` no ways of actually mechanically launching it other than manpower. What kind of manufacturing processes are involved to make a 70-ton timber ship? Cut the raw tree down. You've got to plank it up, so you've got a, somewhere, a saw pit, get your timber and put it in the steam box. You've got this burning hot piece of steaming timber that you're gonna fold into a boat, you know. Like, staggering. Yeah. Unbelievable. PLAYFUL MUSIC So in here was where the steam box was where they bent the timbers for the boat. So that cutting there? Yeah. Oh, you just walk past that and never notice it, wouldn't you? < (LAUGHS) So they would prepare the` the timber in here, bend them to shape. < Yeah. And then the boat would've be built down in here somewhere, closer to the water and the slope of the land. < Oh. < Slid into the water easily. So just here, in this wild bit of landscape, the first European house in NZ and the first European ship in NZ. Yep, yep. Right here. Luncheon Cove, middle of Fiordland. Oh, the adventure of it. You know, people's lives hanging in the balance. If they don't do this, if they don't have those skills and get it done` Yep. They're just going to be trapped here forever. The ship was partially built but never needed. After almost 12 months, the men were picked up, taking with them 4500 sealskins. As word got out, waves of sealers came in and decimated the population. SOARING MUSIC There were very few left by the time they finished, so, uh, and now the place is basically teeming with seals so` Uh-huh. These, um, young pups, you seem to quite often find them in these little shady areas and especially when there's a bit of, uh, rock` wee rock pools` Yeah. > And that one seems to be doing pretty well. He's quite a well-nourished little man by the look of him. But the seals are back. The seals are back. That's the deal, though, isn't it? They belong here and... Yeah. ...we don't. No, we don't. Seems to be a good, healthy population and good, healthy-looking seals, so... They always look faintly bad-tempered, grumpy. (LAUGHS) It's quite remarkable that so much of NZ's early European history played out in such a wild and far-flung corner of the country. It's a place that very few people get the chance to see up close. Next, Jacky Geurts hunts for a curious denizen of the deep. Oh, wow, Miles. Normally, you'd find it in really deep water, you know, 50m, 100m, even deeper. 1 ADVENTUROUS MUSIC It's the natural beauty of Fiordland that first impresses and then just gets better. The towering mountains clad in dense, old forest reach up high and plunge forever, deep into blue, glacier-cut chasms. And it's in the unseen below that marine biologist Jacky Geurts goes on a hunt for a clue about why the submarine garden here is unlike any other on the planet. Today I'm visiting Doubtful Sound, one of NZ's most celebrated dive sites. I'm hoping to uncover a secret world that lay unknown and untouched for centuries before being discovered in the '70s. Local marine biologist Miles Lamare knows this part of Doubtful Sound like the back of his hand. We're actually just leaving, um, the main branch of Doubtful,... Yeah. ...and we're heading into another fjord which is linked to Doubtful Sound called Bradshaw Sound. Yeah. And that basin there, Utah Basin, that's the deepest part of the sound. It's about 460m. Oh, really? In 1978 marine scientist Ken Grange was sheltering from a storm at nearby Acheron Passage. While waiting for the weather to clear, he went diving and happened upon a marine environment unknown to science, featuring a unique coral growth that Miles wants to show me. Strangely, there's a layer of dark water on the surface of the fjord. But venture a little deeper and a crystal clear domain appears, teeming with brilliant colour and movement. And then there it is, a bizarre sight. At just 10m, I can't quite believe what I'm seeing. Oh, wow, Miles. So, these are the black corals. Why do they call it black coral, Miles? It's white. (CHUCKLES) It's just known as black coral from its skeleton, which is black. But it's white because that skeleton has been overgrown by the` the living colony, which has white flesh. Normally, you would find it in really deep water, on the continental shelf, you know, 50, 100, even` even deeper. 100m, even deeper. And that's why it's so special down here? Yeah, this is unique around the world, having these corals at such a shallow depth. Many of the corals come complete with a fascinating black-and-white accessory. Look at these pretty stars. Wow. These are pretty cool. These are, uh, a special type of starfish that you only find living on black coral trees. But at the moment they're all coiled up. At night-time, they uncoil, and they've got long arms that just sweep around the` the black coral, feeding on the coral's mucus and any scrap food that the coral doesn't eat. How old is this coral? Over several years old. Some of the bigger ones, which you get up to 4m, are 6 years old. It's an incredible experience to have seen the black coral, but they're an anomaly in Doubtful Sound's pristine environment. So, Miles, normally those black corals are found at much deeper depths, like, you know, 100m. So why are they found at shallow metres here? Well, there's probably a number of factors, but the key one is to do with light. Right. Let's just say this aquarium is our fjord, right? Yeah. We've got our wee marine layer here. Yeah. So, that's where the corals were living. OK. And this is what you'd see in any other part of` of the coastal NZ. But Fiordland's different. Yeah? There's 7m of rainfall around this region. That's a lot of rain. Yeah. That rain hits the mountains, the water percolates through the forest floor, picking up tannins that basically stain that` that water as it passes down through the forest. Yeah. This is salt water. The rainfall is fresh water. So let's just say this is rain. Going through the forest and then flowing into the fjord. Fresh water floats on salt water. Yeah. > It's stained like tea, and that cuts all the light. So where we were diving just before, that light's been cut right down because of that freshwater layer. So it's much darker. And it's as dark as you would expect to see in it` in deep water offshore. Right. And that's why the corals are here. They like that low light that you would expect to see in deeper water. Makes sense. Yeah. SOARING MUSIC The spectacular underwater black coral gardens of Fiordland are part of a bigger ecosystem that works as a natural matrix, adding another wow factor to this wondrous national park. DRAMATIC MUSIC The climate and conditions here in this remote part of NZ make it a difficult place for human beings to live. But they are flocking here in ever-increasing numbers as tourists. Only time will tell what effect that's having on the local population of bottlenose dolphins. PLAYFUL MUSIC Wild dolphins racing through the swell are always a thrilling sight and particularly special here in Dusky Sound, because unlike their cetacean cousins, the whales, who move in and out of the deep, temperate and Antarctic waters, these bottlenose dolphins usually prefer warmer seas. In Fiordland, they're at the very limits of their southern habitat. There, you see how you can see them under the surface of the water? < Uh-huh. As conservation services manager Chloe Corne explains. They've actually changed a few things just to be able to adapt to the cold. They're actually a bit larger in body size, and, um, their fins have become smaller as well, and that's to try and retain body heat. And as well, they have very distinct calving seasons. So if a calf is born in winter, its chances of survival are immediately reduced. Just hypothermia is just a big risk for a marine mammal. We're seeing evolution happen here. They're changing here to adapt to what's` Adaptation, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Dusky Sound is home to about 130 dolphins, and the numbers are increasing. They do acquire notches and nicks out of the back of the dorsal fin over the course of their lifetime. Um, but for the most part, it's always going to clear the surface of the water when they come up to breathe. Do you get to a point where, because of the dorsal fins and the uniqueness of the dorsal fins, that you're spotting familiar faces? Absolutely. Some of them are more clearly marked than others. Um, scientifically, they each have numbers, um, but we do give them names as well and that does help with just instant recognition in the field. Oh, that's amazing. Mm. And bottlenose dolphins in particular have this lovely rolling motion that they do as they come up to surface, and it's really really easy to get a photograph. CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS RELAXED MUSIC Over the course of time, you can actually start to build up a life history of an individual. So particularly with calves, if you seen them born, you know exactly how old it is, um, you know which areas they like to frequent. You know who they like to hang out with. CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS Do you hear them? Do you ever hear the` the clicking? The` Yeah. The cry` The calls, the cries. Particularly in this boat, the` the whistles that they do, you can actually hear it. It comes up through the hull of the boat. Really? So it's audible at the surface, which is really neat, actually. When they're as intelligent as they are, as charismatic as they are, it's impossible not to establish a fondness for them, even as scientist, I'm sure. Absolutely. They're really interesting animals to observe. Uh, and even after all this time, sometimes you still see them doing something that surprises you. The early part of the story of European contact with the wildlife here was all about exploitation, taking the animals for money, so there's something that feels very timely and appropriate that now so much effort is being made finally to understand the animals. ADVENTUROUS MUSIC Coming up ` There were pots for boiling up whale blubber. a grisly business in Cuttle Cove. And there'd be a windlass for hauling the bits of blubber up the beach. 1 WONDROUS MUSIC Throughout history, humans have tested the frontiers, crossing oceans for commerce, to colonise or just plain adventure. On a similarly daunting quest, author Riria Hotere has hiked down to Fiordland's southernmost reaches to look for evidence of human ambition in one the most desolate and unforgiving places on Earth. I'm braving the rough terrain here at Cuttle Cove to meet up with local historian Lloyd Esler to find out all about the secret history of a product that would keep the home fires burning back in Mother England and the men who harvested it. Rakituma Station was the first major shore-based whaling station in the South Island. I want to understand what sort of men the whalers were and how they braved the long, cold, miserable winters of Fiordland. Kia ora, Lloyd. Kia ora, Riria. How are you? Nice to meet you. So, Lloyd, this is a pretty desolate part of the world. Paint me a picture. Tell me, what would it have been like back in the day? Well` well, 1829, when it all started, it was very different to what it is here. You'd have had a ship anchored out there, the Caroline, the vessel that was collecting the oil. OK. This forest here would've all been cleared away. There was a` um, houses and things all through here. There was, um` There was a` a` a barracks here. There was a boatshed here. There were pots for boiling up whale blubber. There were sheerlegs, which were a great big tripod here for` for lifting the whale up so you could get out the whale` the, uh, blubber from underneath it. It's amazing because when you look out, it's very difficult to believe that anything could have been built here. Yeah, it's odd, isn't it? Cos this is` This is the remotest part of NZ now, the` the` beautiful Preservation Inlet, and it was such a teeming little town here at one stage. How many people? Uh, probably 40 to 50 people were` were living here at the height of the whaling. Shore-based whalers hunted their prey in rowing boats using handheld harpoons and lances. Carcasses were then towed back to the beach, butchered and left to rot, staining the shallows a deep, sickening red. Acrid smoke hung heavy in the air as blubber boiled down in cast-iron pots. A smelly, greasy, grisly routine that went on during the freezing, wet winter months. Is there any remaining trace of the community that endured such appalling conditions here? I'll follow your lead. Yep. Now, there's a bit of tin. There's a bit of corrugated iron, and I think that's more recent. That's not going to date from the whaling era. OK. Most of the whaling infrastructure was probably picked up and moved to new locations. < What about these? Oh, look, look, look. But it seems the recycling didn't extend to glass. This is more like what I'm looking for. This is glass from that era. Wow. That's more like what I expected to find. Tell me about that square bottle. Well, this is a gin bottle. Cased gin ` made square so they fit together in a case without taking up too much room. Usually fairly thin glass, so they break easily. You don't often find an intact one. So square means gin, and these ones here are probably whisky. So, Lloyd, what does this tell us about the men who were here? They were convicts or escaped convicts or freed convicts or the sons of convicts and, uh, none of them were librarians. (LAUGHS) (LAUGHS) They weren't very literate, and they were paid in alcohol and tobacco and` And they had this filthy liquor called arrack, which was just a mixture of anything with alcohol in it. Very very strong, very hard stuff that, uh, warmed them on a cold day and gave them the courage to go out and fight another whale. What about the women? Women? What women? Not a good place for women. (LAUGHS) (LAUGHS) It was` We know that, um, Peter Williams, the manager, had his wife and family here, and they had a house in this vicinity here. Were there any Maori around here at that time? Uh, yeah, there were. In fact, probably quite a few of the crew were` were` were Maori here. And, um, they would have been recruited from` from villages and things, uh, as the ship sailed around. Between the whalers and the Maori, were there any intermarriages? Yeah, there was a lot of intermarriage, and a lot of Southland Maori now are descended from Europeans who were either whalers or sailors who had jumped ship. So they're mixed family. Those children inherited resistance to diseases like tuberculosis and smallpox, which were fatal to Maoris. Interesting. Mm. So they would have been the ones to survive. They were the ones that survived, yeah. These men lived hard as the harvested and processed the whales, but their efforts were crucial for the times. It was whale oil that lit the streets of London, and it was whale oil that kept the wheels of industry turning. And` and this here, this is an example of a whale oil lamp. And this would have smoked and smouldered and sputtered away in your lounge or` or` or maybe on board a ship. You can hang it up like that. And this was your` your main source of illumination, uh, before we discovered kerosene, which came some decades later. A valuable commodity used in so many products at the time. Today a whale's value depends more on it being alive, but what did whale oil look like? Here's a sample here. This is actually humpback whale oil. This is from the Tory Channel whaling station. Have a smell of that. Whoa. (LAUGHS) It's pungent. Pungent? Yeah. But its very fine oil, and it's very useful for` for lubricating. And I've got another wee bottle here. And this one here` This is sperm whale, a sperm whale oil bottle. It says 'sperm sewing machine oil'. And this is what you used for sewing machines. So it's very fine, very penetrating oil, good for watches and clocks and sewing machines and scientific instruments. So, how did such a huge industry come to an end? Uh, it came to an end because they ran out of whales. This station here lasted eight years, which is longer than most of them. By that stage they'd` they'd used up all the` all the local right whales, and they disappeared entirely from the NZ coast. The lessons of history are always in the making. At Cuttle Cove, it was epic endurance for a bloody business. What's left are just echoes of another era and encouraging signs of nature's resilience. It's only in recent years that the population has started to come back and we're now seeing right whale calves for the first time in 150 years around the NZ coast. Next up, a light on the edge of the world. One guy stayed here for 21 years continuously. 21 years without a day off? That's right. 1 Tranquil today, but Fiordland is also landfall for the Roaring Forties, throwing up seas that can blight the sturdiest of seafarers. And so, even out here, seemingly at the very end of the world, there is that familiar beacon of humanity, a lonely sentinel of maritime safety. At the southernmost tip of Fiordland, Puysegur Point marks the western approach to Foveaux Strait, the preferred shipping route for vessels travelling to Southland and Otago from Australia in the 1800s. With the discovery of gold, sea traffic increased. So too did the need for a light. And with great effort, it was built and lit in 1879. Of all the lighthouse stories to be heard around this country, there's surely none more dramatic than that at Puysegur Point. For lighthouse-men and their families, this was the worst posting of them all. Before lighthouses were automated, it took a special soul to do this. Paul. How you doing? And Paul Trevethick is one. How long is it since you've been back to this station? 30 years. 30 years. And what thoughts, when you stand here now and think about those days? Looking out here, I` I still love the sea. I love the wildlife. In the teeth of a gale, what would it look like out there? The strongest wind came from the north-west, which is coming straight in as we look out at it. Like, a 10m swell. And there would be just white water everywhere. It was just a crazy mass of water. The average wind speed was gale ` that's over 35 knots ` and it would get up to 90 knots and the wall of the house would move 6 inches either way. And I had to pull the table away from the wall because it would just be bashing it all the time. Because of the weather you had to rely on yourself, and the, uh, longest I was here was three months. How long did the old-time keepers spend here? I heard one guy called Alexander Parks stayed here for 21 years continuously. 21 years without a day off? That's right. I can't imagine that. I wouldn't want to be` He must've been a certain type of man to stay here for that length of time. His wife must've been a certain kind of woman as well. Exactly. Yeah. Today only the light remains from what was a supreme effort to build it and keep it going. Oh gosh, it's weird to see... Mm. ... (CHUCKLES) habitation. No vegetation. The whole station would have covered 10 acres, I suppose. Hello, is that LB? Puysegur calling. Is that LB? Do you read me, please? Over. There was a office with all the met gear in it. We had to, uh, do, three-hourly weather reports to the met office. My weather time is 1450 Mike. We just had to keep things running, make sure the light was going, and that was about our day, really. What were your thoughts when this station was finally automated? I was sad, as everyone was. The people against it knew it wasn't just the keepers turning the light on and off. It was the weather reporting and everything else that went with the station. All these fishing boats out here knew that there was someone here. They knew, even, they could come up and have a hot bath if they wanted. So it was` It was more than just being a light keeper as such. If you had the chance and if the circumstances allowed, would you come back here for another gig? I sure would. Any time. Leave me here now and I'll stay. I sure would. Any time. Leave me here now and I'll stay. A huge part of the fascination with lighthouses is the endeavour and the sheer physical effort required to get them up and running and then to keep them running. At Puysegur Point, in this remote south-west corner of NZ's South Island, it feels as though the builders raised it up to a whole new level. It's remarkable. LILTING MUSIC MAJESTIC MUSIC Fiordland may have an extensive history for Maori and the first Europeans, but the very first foundations of this massive park are primordial. Just how old is what geologist Hamish Campbell is on a mission to find out on an island in remote Preservation Inlet. Coal Island is a small, far-flung island with a big history, and it's home to some of NZ's oldest rock formations. Gidday. Morning, Andrew. The authorities knew there was coal at Coal Island, but convincing miners to come to this remote inlet was another matter. So a prize was offered for the first payable seams, and before long the island rang out with the sound of shovels and picks. However, the seams were soon exhausted and the miners moved on. But in the late 19th century, it was gold that was the drawcard, and for many gold was the only way out of poverty. So from the late 1860s onwards, it was one gold rush after another, and Fiordland didn't go unnoticed. Ah, so this is Coal Island, Andrew? This is Coal Island, yeah. Just in front of us, there. I've been wanting to come here for decades, quite literally. Ah, brilliant. It's a pretty remote place. Yeah. < Geologically. Cos, you know, this is one of the most important localities on the NZ coast. I've heard there are still riches to be found here at Preservation Inlet, but treasure means different things to different people. Otago geologist Jon Lindqvist has been poking around Coal Island for four decades. Gidday, John. Oh, hi, Hamish. He's asked me along for some old-school prospecting. Well, we could have a go here for, uh, a bit of the, uh, yellow stuff. All right. Well, the, uh, early prospectors would've panned the beach sand and gravels, and they would've, um, panned everything in sight, really. Yeah, yeah, Um, check it out. Look, you can see a little tail of iron oxide minerals. Yeah, the black sand? Black sand, yeah. < Can you go faster? I'm dying to see the gold. Yeah, it's, um... If we bring it round into the sun,... Yeah, yeah. ...you might see a little bit of colour there. You see the tail of black sand there? Yes. Oh, there's some gold. Yeah, and there could be a bit of gold there too. < My goodness. Yeah, see a little speck there? > Yeah, yeah. Yeah, right at the little tip, there. Right there. Yeah. > So, who discovered gold here first? In the, um, 1880s, uh, an assistant lighthouse keeper by the name of Payne, uh, did quite a bit of prospecting in his spare time, and he, um, found workable gold. Was much gold actually found here? Apparently, there was a, um, quite a large nugget of around 16oz picked up on the beach here, just where we are. Good heavens. News of the lighthouse keeper's discovery soon leaked out, and before long the area was crawling with gold miners. The mini gold rush didn't last long, but for geologists like us, the real treasure is all around ` ancient fossils called graptolites hidden in the rock. Like the gold, these are proving somewhat elusive today, but Jon has brought along a graptolite fossil. Here` Here's a sample here... Oh, right. ...of graptolites` They just look like marks on the rock, as you were describing. Yeah, just made as if they were made by a pencil. So they're sort of stick-like things that just hung in the water? They are animals and part of the, um, planktons, say, um, 400, 500 million years ago. Wow. > So long ago that when these tiny animals were alive, plants were just beginning to colonise the land. Yeah, they're some of the oldest, uh, rocks found in NZ and probably the oldest found on the coast. So what is it really telling us about the geological history of Fiordland? This belt of rocks, there's equivalent rocks over in Australia, in the Bendigo area. They're evidence of, um, NZ splitting away from Australia. A split that began about 100 million years ago when the southern supercontinent, Gondwana, drifted apart. I guess that's where the, uh, rivalry started. (LAUGHS) Is that when it started? At the start of NZ. Yeah. Not only were corresponding rocks found across the Tasman, gold was also discovered in Bendigo, in northern Victoria, to the tune of 25 million ounces, far more than was found here. But Coal Island is rich in so many other ways, as surveyor Adam Johnson observed in 1868, 'A safe retreat for distressed mariners 'and a place where a man of science can retire for a while and examine the mysteries of nature.' While it seems that Adam Johnson, way back in 1868, may have been right, that the Preservation Inlet here is just for distressed mariners and the odd tourist, for geologists like Jon and myself, this is what dreams are made of. We'd love to be stranded here. Not for too long. (CHUCKLES) (LAUGHS) Crayfish wars. Wow. There was just yelling and screaming and swearing and finger pointing, and it was just hideous. That's next. 1 SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC It's natural to get carried away by the wild beauty of Fiordland, but it's also home to a $100 million a year industry. In the 1990s, however, that industry was all but lost at sea. Careful stewardship of our planet's marine resources is a relatively modern concept, especially here in the desolate southern end of NZ. Today I'm up early to go out with skipper Jerry Excell and his mate Flipper. It's not my first day, I promise. I'm hoping to get an idea of how they've survived the challenges of catching crays in the cold waters of Dusky Sound, and the best way is to get hands-on. CURIOUS MUSIC Excellent, there's a machine that does it. Yeah. That's the best news I've had all morning, there's a machine that lifts them out the water. I thought that would be me. What's the depth that it's coming up from? We'll work to about 120m. Oh yeah. Wow. Is that a typical load? Oh, there's a lot of big ones in there. Yeah? Are they` You don't` You don't take things that size, no? He` He's too big. Yeah? We'll release him. Wow, look at that. Monster. Throw him back, yeah? Yeah, let him go. Thought that was what you were after. Bigger the better, no? No. Not worth anything. These wee guys, that's where the money is, eh. Really? It seems counter-intuitive to reject these big beauties, but global gourmands now demand picture-perfect, plate-sized crayfish. DUB MUSIC So if you're a crayfish, the object of the exercise is to get as big as you can as fast as you can. Don't go in one of these until you get over about 2 kilos. (LAUGHS) Yeah, keep getting bigger! (LAUGHS) (LAUGHS) Yeah. All right. All right. And there's another reason the biggies are returned. The consequence of that is, the really good consequence is that we throw back the best breeding stock. Cos all the big females, there's no part of the year that we'll eat the big females. They're too big. So the goose` the goose that lays the golden egg always goes back in the water. Pretty much, yeah. Male, 52. Mature female, 80. It almost feels like` It's more like the way that you would manage a flock or a herd, isn't it? Yes. Yeah. You` You look after the parents, they keep producing the young, and you harvest the young. Yeah. It's not just a random catch. Yeah, there's nothing random about it. No. Yeah, we're very selective. DRAMATIC MUSIC On a scale of one to 10, how rough is this? Two. Oh, really? In the '70s when, uh, there was the maximum number of boats here fishing all year round, they gradually just fished it down till it was in a pretty sad state. How many boats and barges were involved at that point? Um, at the peak I think there was around 370 boats. It was at a level where no one was making any money. Just everybody was working there guts out for pittance, really. And at the moment, we're stable around the 70. We've been like that for 12, 15 years, perhaps, now. So there's` So there's around 300 fewer vessels involved now? Yeah. How difficult was it to put the brakes on the industry as it was and persuade people that there was a` a radically different way of doing things? Oh, horrendously difficult. I guess there was meetings when the quota was implemented that there was just yelling and screaming and swearing and finger pointing, and it was just hideous. Conflict among those pushing for an open season, others wanting a permanent ban and moderates like Jerry, seeking sustainability, were eventually resolved. No one got everything they want, but everyone can co` You know, we're coexisting here pretty happily now. Some of those big females or the big males, they must get caught over and over again. > Yeah, they do. Because they just come to the pot, eat free fish > almost knowing that at some point that day someone's gonna come and pull them up to surface and throw them back in. Um, we've run tagging programmes where we've tagged fish, and some fish have been caught 16, 18 times. It's be safe to say that at the moment the crayfish of Fiordland are a happy species. I'd like to think they are. (LAUGHS) There's a small percentage of them that are probably not that happy about their ride. The ones that are just the wrong size of just the right day. Yeah. So, this is what it's all about, eh? $100 million industry. Seems ridiculous, doesn't it? I dunno. Look at that. That's the stuff. Oh, it's a bit special, though, isn't it? It's not bad, is it? You having some, Flipper? I'll pass. < Tastes like chicken. (LAUGHS) I'll pass, thanks, eh. Don't eat the profits. Today there are marine reserves with large areas set aside for controlled crayfishing, a delicate balance between supply and demand, nature and nurture in a wild and improbable corner of the world. DRAMATIC MUSIC MUSIC CONTINUES Fiordland is undoubtedly the most remote, the emptiest, the loneliest part of NZ. Very little has changed since Captain Cook and his crew refreshed themselves in Dusky Sound and repaired the Resolution. I'd like to think that if I had the chance to come back here in another 200 years, it would look exactly the same. DRAMATIC MUSIC