How We ‘Found Our Tribe’ While Exploring How Ecoacoustics Could Transform Conservation (Faunatech X NZCS)

Have You Ever Had a Serendipitous Chance Meeting That Let You Find Your Tribe?

That’s how it felt when we met the team at Wildlife Acoustics & Faunatech.

At the time, we were planning a trip into Fiordland to film a series exploring how technology is changing conservation. Our focus was the old kākāpō valleys of Milford Sound, sacred places in the history of New Zealand Conservation.  

We had hoped to visit the Transit Valley and film a series looking at how technology might have altered conservation outcomes, both during the original kākāpō recovery efforts of the 1980s and in the decades that followed. It was in this area that at least four birds were found living near what became known as “Kākāpō Castle” above Lake Liz. 

While longstanding convention has said Kakapo became extinct in the Wild in 1987. Official Information Act requests later revealed that through the late 1980s and early 1990s, sections of track and bowl systems continued to be grubbed, and feeding signs consistent with kākāpō were observed. A search in 2006 uncovered inconclusive but intriguing grubbing signs, and in 2012 a further search was launched after booming was reported in one part of the valley and skrarking in another. The mystery deepened when brief audio recordings appeared to capture calls similar to kākāpō. Yet resources limited the response. 

We wanted to return, not to prove anything, but to show how modern technology could change the way conservation work like this is approached.

The goal was never to “find” a kākāpō, real or imagined. It was to give everyday New Zealanders insight into how technology can support conservation, and to provide a kind of update: a look at how tools that didn’t exist decades ago might have reshaped kākāpō work if they had been available at the time. And, quietly, to explore the not-impossible idea that something might still remain.

So we approached Wildlife Acoustics and their Australian subsidiary, Faunatech, with a simple question: would they partner with us by providing ecoacoustic equipment for the trip?

We’d reached out to several organisations for conversation around technology and equipment and had some genuinely generous people step up to provide assistance in other areas. But from the very first conversation with Nicole, Bianca, and their teams across Australia and America, it was clear something was different.

To put it simply, we’d found our tribe.

In our first call, we talked openly about the cost of conservation, and how we had selected careers in conservation not for financial gain, but because we wanted to make a difference. That conversation shaped everything that followed.

They generously supplied us with an SM4 recorder, a Song Meter, Kaleidoscope software, and a solar panel, allowing us to deploy two ecoacoustic stations in Fiordland. In practice, those units became two additional team members, working day and night, long after we’d left the field.

Ecoacoustics is one of the most powerful tools available in modern conservation. It allows animal calls to be captured over extended periods using highly sensitive audio equipment, with recording schedules tailored to specific times of day and durations. Kaleidoscope software then transforms what would otherwise be an overwhelming task, manually listening to tens or hundreds of hours of audio, into something manageable.

By isolating specific frequency bands, we can efficiently search large volumes of data for the calls of a target species, while still retaining the broader soundscape of an area.That means you’re not just asking is a species present?  You’re also learning who else is there, how ecosystems are functioning, and how those patterns change over time.

But the real breakthrough lies in duration.

In the early 2010s, the Department of Conservation could typically leave recording devices in the field for only weeks or, at best, a few months. With modern units, appropriately sized SD cards, solar panels, and carefully chosen settings, an SM4 can remain deployed for many months and in some configurations (usually with a solar panel) potentially most of a year. That dramatically widens the window of opportunity.

Male kākāpō can travel widely, particularly in non-booming years. Older males may boom only sporadically, even in breeding seasons. In a place like Fiordland, vast, inaccessible, wet, and unforgiving, you can be standing in exactly the right location and still miss everything due to weather alone. Earlier search notes explicitly mention wind as a major barrier to detecting calls.

It’s like looking for a needle without a point, in a haystack, inside a mountain of haystacks, while it’s raining.

Long-duration ecoacoustic monitoring changes that equation.

Looking ahead, Wildlife Acoustics’ upcoming SM5, expected in 2026, could push this even further. Bluetooth-enabled data access could reduce the need for full device retrieval, potentially extending deployment lifespans and lowering field effort. Suddenly, the requirement to be physically present in some of the harshest terrain on Earth diminishes.

That matters.

In the 1980s, finding kākāpō in Fiordland meant people spending months in extreme conditions. Helicopter costs were enormous. Human risk was real and there have been fatalities during remote conservation operations.

Even in the 2006 “last search for kākāpō in Fiordland”, more than thirty people covered around fifteen locations over a summer. Weather limited time on site. Resources were stretched. Reporting was fragmented. Despite hearing possible calls at Surprise Creek, finding new ‘old’ track and bowl systems, and encountering possible feeding sign, the team simply couldn’t determine whether kākāpō remained.

That wasn't a failure. It was the limit of what was possible at the time.

With today’s technology, in theory a single helicopter could deploy a dozen solar-powered SM5 units across the same locations in a day. Data could be downloaded remotely. With the right configuration devices could remain in place for many months or even longer. Instead of dozens of people rotating through sites, a small team could monitor and analyse data over time.

The cost difference is staggering, and so is the potential.

This isn’t just about kākāpō. The Department of Conservation recently rediscovered little spotted kiwi on the mainland after more than fifty years presumed extinct. Where else might they persist? The same questions apply to South Island kōkako, or to species struggling with genetic fragmentation, like the Haast tokoeka where a previously unknown population was recently found above the Cascade Plateau.

With emerging technology, these questions are no longer hypothetical.

It’s an exciting time to be involved in conservation. We firmly believe that technology will unlock solutions to many of the challenges ahead.

And it’s worth repeating: the goal of this trip was never to find a kākāpō. There is no guarantee they remain. The goal was to inspire curiosity, learning, and engagement, and to do that by partnering with organisations doing genuinely meaningful work.

The time, training, resources, and hands-on support we received from Wildlife Acoustics and Faunatech went far beyond what we expected. More than transformative, it felt like alignment, people who care deeply about telling the right stories, for the right reasons.

They’ve given us the best experience we’ve had with any organisation we’ve worked with. We’ve found our tribe, and we hope to share many more stories together in the future.

As for Fiordland kākāpō… that had to wait.

A phone call came through that shifted everything, pulling us toward a different adventure, one that may prove even more important. We’ll share that story soon, and how Wildlife Acoustics played a role in it.