We spent several days anchored off Tiritiri Matangi, a 22‑hectare sanctuary set like a green jewel in the Hauraki Gulf. The little bay cradled us in clear, glassy water where small snapper drifted beneath the hull, their silver backs flickering in the light. Now and then a stingray glided across the sandy bottom, unbothered by our presence. None of it stopped us from slipping into the water again and again, swimming lazy circles around the boat.
Each day we went ashore to wander the island’s web of walking tracks, the bush alive with birdsong. Tiritiri is Auckland’s premier bird sanctuary, and it feels it — every branch seems to hold a story, every shadow a flutter of wings.
The island itself has lived many lives. Once a Māori pā, later farmland, and during the Second World War part of Auckland’s harbour defences. Its lighthouse once claimed the brightest beam in the Southern Hemisphere, guiding ships long before the island became a refuge for wildlife.
From 1984 to 1994, boatloads of volunteers — the “spade brigade” — transformed the land, planting 280,000 native trees and shrubs. By 1993 the rats were gone, and the slow, hopeful work of reintroducing lizards and birds began. Today the island feels reborn, a place where the land breathes easier and the forest sings again.
