The little stint is a tiny sandpiper from the Arctic that sometimes finds its way to New Zealand. It is one of the smallest waders in the world, weighing less than a tennis ball. It breeds on the tundra of northern Europe and Asia. It winters in Africa and southern Asia. Occasionally it overshoots. It keeps going. It ends up here. This accidental arrival defines its status in the country. It is not expected. It is a surprise.
In breeding plumage, it is rich chestnut on the head and breast, with a white throat and a dark centre to the back. It looks like a bird on fire. Outside the breeding season, the transformation is complete. It becomes pale grey above and white below, with a dark patch on the shoulder. It is unrecognisable as the same creature. Identification requires attention to detail. The little stint is almost identical to the
red-necked stint, which is common in New Zealand. The differences are subtle. The little stint has a straighter bill and a different call. The birds know the difference. Humans often do not.
Feeding involves small insects, worms, and crustaceans. The bird runs and pecks on mudflats and beaches. It moves constantly, a tiny ball of energy rolling across the mud. It does not stop. The call is a sharp, dry "stit-stit," often given in flight. It is distinctive. Once you learn it, you hear little stints before you see them. The sound marks the presence of the bird. It signals activity in the shallows.
In New Zealand, these birds are rare vagrants. Most records come from the North Island. The Firth of Thames, Kaipara Harbour, and Manukau Harbour host occasional visitors. A few birds appear each year. Birders celebrate when they find one. The little stint breeds in the high Arctic, where summers are short and insects are abundant. It nests on the ground, in a shallow scrape lined with leaves. Four eggs are laid. The female incubates alone. The chicks leave the nest within hours. They are independent from the start.
The population is large and stable globally. The little stint is not endangered. It is just rare here. It is a long-distance traveller. It flies from Siberia to Africa every year. That is a journey of 10,000 kilometres. It does not seem to find this remarkable. In New Zealand, it is an accident. A bird that took a wrong turn and ended up on the wrong side of the world. It feeds. It rests. It moves on. Climate change affects Arctic tundra habitat in the breeding range. This poses a threat to the global population. But in New Zealand, no significant threats exist due to rarity. The bird carries on.