Conservationist Hamiora Gibson, aka Sam The Trap Man Photo: @sam_the_trap_man
When Gisborne conservationist Sam Gibson (aka Sam the Trap Man) takes young people into the wilderness, he sees them start to visibly calm down, he tells Saturday Morning.
"They tend to come into the bush pretty high-paced and moving quite quickly. Sometimes you go to shake their hands and they're looking at your feet.
"Then, after a day in the bush, they tend to slow down their pace. They look you in the eye and they feel a lot more vibrant."
Gibson shares cracking yarns about bush life in the new book Sam the Trap Man.
Gibson - who is also a hunter and trapper - was raised in "a beautiful Lockwood house" on the banks of the Hamanatua Stream in Tairāwhiti Gisborne.
Although his family didn't have a lot of cash he says they "definitely made up for it" in outdoor adventures.
"My father was such an incredible storyteller, that he just managed to capture our imaginations and start to unpack those little ecosystem intricacies that were going on in the world around us.
"My mother, being an anthroposophical nurse and being a specialist in her remedies, really started to unpack the little miracles that the plants were doing as well."
After a move to Hawkes Bay and "a little bit of mischief" at his new school, Gibson started spending time with his godfather, a trapper in the Te Urewera forest.
Eventually, those visits to the "incredible" bush in that area revealed his calling.
"After a while, those trips started to mean more to me than the party scene at home and that was where I felt that I could be me, really. And I didn't really look back.
"I was actually good at something, you know. Good at carrying traps and good at doing conservation."
While people who don't partake in trapping or hunting may "think the worst" of the anti-predator projects Gibson is involved in, he says everyone that he knows tries to avoid causing any animal undue suffering.
With modern ammunition that's "built with humaneness in mind", that's a very rare occurrence for him these days.
His first experience of deer hunting, though - an "absolute debacle" involving multiple shots and a carcass he couldn't carry - led to some soul-searching.
"I remember sitting there with this deer, knowing that I wanted to be a hunter, I wanted to provide food for my family, but I definitely wanted to get a lot better at hunting [rather] than shooting an animal multiple times."
As both a conservationist and "a dog man", Gibson had to do further soul-searching during his stint as a wild dog culler in Te Uruwera.
"Having to shoot and trap dogs was a hard job to do but the reality was that we were losing a lot of kiwi to dog predation so it's what needed to be done … I made sure that every interaction I had with the dog was as humane as I could possibly make it."
Photo: Supplied by Allen & Unwin NZ
Being a trapper doesn't mean Gibson disrespects the animals whose lives are taken so that other species may survive.
"Stoats are truly incredible creatures and they are taonga to their home ecosystems and their home indigenous people. Same with possums. Many Aboriginal people really revere the possum … When I trap a possum, I make sure that I treat it the way that I think those Indigenous peoples would see fit."
Now more efficient and effective than ever, trapping is one of our greatest conservation tools, he says, because it keeps people connected to and advocating for the environment.
To help get the next generation on board with this mission, Gibson became rather late in life - and at his wife's suggestion - a content creator.
"I was one of those people didn't have a smartphone … I was like 'What's Instagram?'"
He's glad there's an enthusiastic audience for social media content that's "wholesome" and educational.
"People just really like to be able to understand trees a little bit more, understand their relationship with their ecosystems a little bit more … That's a good thing for for people, and I think it's a good thing for the bush."
Many of us walk through the bush and notice trees, Gibson says, but don't move slowly enough to see how they are constantly trying to "engage us in relationship".
"The bush has a way of slowing us down, giving us good air, good water and a bit of exercise is nice. If we spend a little bit of time there we tend to come into the same pace as the bush, I reckon, which is a good thing."
