Landscape beckons in retirement

Otago Conservator Jeff Connell on his last official visit to Wanaka this week. Photo by Marjorie...
Otago Conservator Jeff Connell on his last official visit to Wanaka this week. Photo by Marjorie Cook.
A self-confessed "controversial" figure, Jeff Connell is retiring after 20 years as the Department of Conservation's Otago conservator. Rebecca Fox talks to the man who has shaped the region's conservation efforts, often not without criticism.

Jeff Connell has been "doing his job" representing the Department of Conservation in Otago for two decades, but how did this city boy, a lawyer, became a champion of Otago's high country and one of the region's most criticised public servants? Get him talking about his favourite Otago landscapes and Mr Connell settles in with enthusiasm.

"There is this sense of freedom, expansion of spirit I feel in tussock grassland. There is enormous aesthetic appeal.

"We have the opportunity to protect and value what a lot of other countries have lost."

It is this love that has led him to appear in the headlines more often of late than not, defending his role and that of his department.

Many projects he has led - the Little Valley red tussock designation, Ngai Tahu settlement, particularly the high country stations, Kawarau Water Conservation Order, Motatapu Track and Doc's role in the Mahinerangi and Hayes wind farm proposals - have come with a hefty doses of controversy.

At times it has become a personal attack, rather than a discussion of the issue, he says.

"At all times, not only have I been `doing my job', I've been doing it in a way I've made sure was legitimate in terms of the policy of the government of the day.

"But I'm the representative of the department in Otago and I accept that people feel strongly about what the department does."

He learnt criticism was something that came with the territory.

"It is something I will enjoy saying goodbye to when I retire."

Soon he will step down from the role of conservator and planned to dedicate more time and energy to a long-time hobby - landscape painting - from his and wife Sandra's six-acre base on the Taieri.

"It's an important hobby for me. You need a big block of time for it."

As for walking away from the job he had spent decades dedicated to, he did not see it as a problem.

It was a decision he had been signalling to staff for the past couple of years.

"Because I've been a controversial figure over the years, some people, I think, will be glad to see the back of me."

Most recently he was caught in the media glare over Doc's stance on wind farms and claims of "secret deals" with power companies.

"As a conservator, I'm obliged to follow government policy. When society does not agree with the policy, one gets caught [between the two].

"It's troubling, but very clear. Fundamentally, Doc is a government department and has to follow government policy line."

Doc's functions included conservation advocacy but the "bottom line is subject to the direction of the minister of the day".

"If I wanted to be a freewheeling advocate, I wouldn't have joined the public service. The trade-off is, as conservator in Doc, I had the most marvellous opportunity to make a difference in ways I think are seen as positive.

"I've always represented the Department of Conservation. If it was not me it would have been someone else."

His love of the great outdoors came out of an upbringing in 1950s and 1960s New Zealand.

He grew up in Tawa, at a time when the hills were covered in farmland and bush.

"It was a childhood where you disappeared out of the door after breakfast and did not come back till tea time."

In his 20s he became a keen surfer, tramper, skier and mountaineer.

"I think that intensive period of outdoor activity ultimately led to Doc."

However, he started out as a lawyer, graduating from Victoria University in 1971 and heading into private practice.

He joined the public service in 1974 with roles as solicitor in the State Services Commission and then the Ministry of Transport.

He represented the Civil Aviation Authority during the Erebus inquiry after the Crown solicitor became ill.

The turning point came when he became Road Transport assistant director and then attended a Government career development course.

"You filled out a questionnaire and it was sent to the US, where it went through a computer, which was still quite novel then. It came back, telling me I should apply to Doc, so I did."

In 1987 he joined Doc as regional manager in Wanganui and two years later was appointed Otago conservator.

"I had my sites set on warmer places, but the director-general, who had unsuccessfully tried to get me to go to Hamilton, suggested Otago."

He only agreed on the proviso that if the Nelson conservator role came up, he would be considered for it.

"I had my escape route, but I did not need it. When I came down to Otago, I had no idea what a pastoral lease was."

After coming from the North Island, where there was always a national park to be seen on the skyline, he found it surprising not to have the same experience in Otago.

On his first road trip to Queenstown he kept on waiting for Doc staff to point out the conservation land in such a fantastic landscape but it did not happen.

"That struck me as odd. But you do that drive now 20 years later there is a lot more public land on that journey."

But it was not until the tenure review process got rolling in the 1990s that Mr Connell began to see the possibilities in the concept.

"From then on, I was chasing a vision of parks across a network in the high country and that has happened."

He sees the string of high-country land purchases Doc has made in his years such as Flat Top Hill, Sandymount Reserve and the Grand and Otago skink habitat, as a success, gaining "enormous satisfaction" from the process.

However, tenure review had been a process full of controversy and still was, he said.

He hoped as high-country parks became more established and more tourism became involved, the community would recognise their environmental benefits, which included stabilising the upper catchment of the region, securing high-quality water and carbon sequestering, he said.

"In time, parks are likely to be accepted and valued for a range of things."

That shift had not yet happened, he admitted, especially among high-country farmers - often his harshest critics.

"The high-country farming community has yet to warm to the park network idea because their focus is on grazing land. They don't fully agree with the idea places that could be grazed, aren't."

The high-country farming community was very close-knit and supported each other.

So those who had been through the tenure review process, a choice on their part, would provide support and advice to those who were going through it, or might, he said.

"You would be hard put to find a high-country farmer who admitted he got a good deal because they are worried it will affect negotiations of their colleagues."

The change in mindset might not have happened yet, but the Otago Central Rail Trail, which he was instrumental in getting off the ground, was an example of where it could, he said.

He and Les Cleveland set up the Otago Central Rail Trail Trust to attract donations and provide a focus for community support for the trail.

The farming community was opposed to the trail being set up yet now most say it was a good thing, he said.

"It's taken 15 years. It was fair for them to be sceptical at the beginning, but now they have come round."

What held him to Otago for 20 years was the region's high country which he saw was "a distinctive and fascinating landscape" .

"Otago is a special place. There is nothing like it on the planet."

He could never find the words to describe what so attracted him to the open spaces of the high country until a staff member talked about Te Papanui - the sense of freedom, of no boundaries, he said.

"The sky is dramatic, as much part of the environment as the landscape."

As an amateur landscape painter, he had great appreciation for the texture and colour of tussock grasslands shown off by the low angle of southern sunlight.

He believed the perceptions of that "rippling and rolling" landscape were changing and from a conservation point of view, worldwide they were rare in a natural state - the United States was spending lots of money recreating their long grass prairie lands . . ."

There were disappointments, most notably his failure to get a marine protected area in Otago, he said.

Doc tried twice - the first time being knocked back at ministerial level because of the opposition to the project by Ngai Tahu and commercial and recreational fishers, and the second time being overtaken by a change in policy.


Connell's favourite spots
"I'd have no trouble rattling off 50 favourite places in Otago"
> Lake Wilkie in the Catlins. "It's a marvellous little gem".
> The Upper Manuherikia above Falls Dam. "It's an example of high country value with very little modification".
> Flat Top Hill outside Alexandra. "You get a surprising view down into Lake Roxburgh".


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