Story: Kea & Weka

Tales of a cheeky duo from Castle Hill Rock

11 June, 2023

Based on my visit to Castle Rock Hut in February 2023

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At Castle Rock Hut, the trampers come to stay

Unaware of the creatures who come out to play

Kea and Weka, so playful and sly

Keep watch and plot out all the things they could try.

Cheeky Kea loves everything, curious head to tail

Soft, stretchy or shiny, he finds it on the trail.

With a squeaky chuckle and a playful hop

Trampers’ packs make his perfect one-stop toy shop.

Master of stealth, Weka moves without a sound

Silent as a shadow, staying close to the ground.

Where others may have called it quits,

He stays waiting ‘til the timing is fit.

A spoon drops, a watch unattended,

A new pair of Ray-Bans catching sun, oh so splendid.

An easy hop, hop, step, reach, ‘til it’s in Kea’s beak

Rolling back laughing, keeps his easy winning streak.

Not to be outdone, good old Weka with a plan

Masked by the bush he sits there and scans

‘Til the humans get drowsy, distracted or giddy

Dragging scroggin back to base, just as evening turns nippy.

Kea and Weka, partners in crime

Often team up for some double mischief time.

Green plumage above, flicker of feet below

Snack after snack vanishes, this routine they both know.

Dancing on the rooftop, tip tapping with glee

Sliding into the water tank, what a funny sight to see.

While Kea still basks in triumph's sweet delight

With a wink and a nod, Weka vanishes into night.

Sometimes the trampers think they’re ones who know better

That Kea and Weka’s tricks aren’t quite so clever.

They keep their packs near, bags closed, socks in sight

And keep up the scout ‘til it’s well into night.

Such so was the case with the latest group of six

Who’d travelled up from Marahau, pace blisteringly brisk.

Upon arrival kicked off their muddy socks and boots

Quickly stashed inside the hut, door shut, no through route.

Their food stored up upon the bench

Their clothes hung high and out of reach

Their dinners of pasta, instant noodles and steak

Were gobbled up swiftly, neither bird could take.

Kea came calling, he made quite the hullabaloo

What started as a warble soon became something new

A screech of frustration, rapid tapping on timber

Swooping and sweeping yet still no hope glimmer.

Weka too was out of luck, his usual cover blown

Creeping forward from out the bush, but finding no safe zone.

Got so close to something tasty, but usual patience wearing thin,

He snapped a twig and that was it, all eyes were on suddenly on him.

The trampers laughed, “Those cheeky birds, they can’t steal our things.

Let’s retire now, it’s getting late, we’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

As they readied for bed, a muffled plea was heard off in the distance

Realising one of their crew was lost, in need of some assistance.

Not far from camp, a person had strayed

Lost in the bush, a wrong path was made.

With provisions grabbed and boots thrown on,

The trampers raced, rescue mission begun.

Breaking the bush’s hush, the search had commenced

Unbeknownst mischief lurked, camouflaged and unannounced.

Yells like Marco-Polo being made back and forth

Then a cry of jubilation, as they arrived back on course.

Relieved and ready for rest, the trampers returned,

But a surprise awaited, their spirits slightly churned.

On the hut doorstep,left out on display

A new pair of Birkenstocks, torn in dismay.

Annoyed, yet amused, the trampers all groaned,

The culprits were clear, mischief well-known.

If you listened close, Kea's giggles not missed

And Weka's happy shuffle, for he could not resist.

Forever troublemakers, Castle Rock Hut’s cheeky birds

The makers of stories and tales overhead.

Take heed, fellow adventurers, as you pass through,

Next time their playful antics may just get poor you!

In case you were wondering, these are the green Birkenstock sandals that someone accidentally left outside the hut. We don't know for sure how the strap got torn off but you can take your own guess at who the culprit or culprits were!


And since you made it this far, I'll let you in on a not-so-secret secret: It was me who got lost in the bush which lead to these poor sandals being hurriedly thrown off and left outside the hut. You can read about the unfortunate series of events here in: Dropping Your Pride