The kiwifruit is that fuzzy brown fruit from China, now grown in orchards across New Zealand, green and sweet and full of vitamin C. But New Zealand has its own native kiwifruit relatives – the kiwi-berries, small, smooth-skinned, sweet, growing wild in the forests. They are rare now, pushed to the margins. But there was once a giant kiwi-berry that grew in the lowland forests, producing fruit the size of a small plum, feeding the birds and the moa. It was the forest ghost, and it is gone.
Its fruit made it special. The giant kiwi-berry produced masses of sweet, nutrient-rich berries that were a magnet for birds. The berries were larger than any living native Actinidia – a substantial meal for a tūī, a
kākā, or a moa. The birds ate the berries, swallowed the seeds, and flew off to deposit them elsewhere – often with a built-in fertiliser pack. It was a perfect partnership: the shrub fed the birds, and the birds planted the shrub.
It scrambled. Kiwi-berries are not strong trees – they are scramblers, using other trees for support, reaching for the light. The giant kiwi-berry would have climbed its way to the canopy, its woody stems twisting around rimu and tōtara, its leaves filtering the light, its berries hanging in clusters. It was a connector, a liana, a plant that linked the forest floor to the canopy. Its flowers – probably white and fragrant, like its relatives – attracted insects and birds for pollination. Its leaves were broad and soft, typical of the genus.
It was dioecious – separate male and female plants. The females produced berries only if a male was nearby. That strategy works when the forest is dense and the plants are abundant. It fails when the forest is fragmented and the males are gone.
Moa extinction and forest clearance destroyed it. The giant kiwi-berry evolved alongside the moa – the giant flightless birds that roamed the forest floor. Moa ate the berries. They swallowed the seeds whole. They walked for kilometres, depositing the seeds in new locations. The shrub depended on the moa for long-distance seed dispersal. When the moa were hunted to extinction by 1500 AD, the giant kiwi-berry lost its best disperser. The smaller birds – tūī,
kākā,
kererū – could still eat the berries, but they did not carry the seeds as far. The shrub's range began to contract.
Then the loggers came. European settlers cleared the lowland forests for timber and pasture. The giant kiwi-berry, which needed mature forest with tall support trees, could not survive in farmland. Its scrambling stems were trampled by stock. Its berries were eaten by rats. Its seedlings were grazed by possums. By the 1910s, it was gone.
The smaller kiwi-berry species survived. They are more adaptable, able to grow in forest margins and regenerating bush. They are the survivors, the scramblers, the plants that clung on. But the giant kiwi-berry is extinct. A few pressed specimens in a herbarium, a few fossilised seeds in a core sample, and the memory of a shrub that used to feed the forest.
We killed its partner. We cleared its forest. Then we wondered why the forest felt so hungry.