Alwyn Seeley: A Pioneer in Bush Restoration

Discover the inspiring story of Alwyn Seeley, a pioneer in bush restoration, who helped transform Putikitiki Gully in Hamilton East into the thriving AJ Seeley Reserve. Over 50 years, Alwyn used innovative methods, community collaboration, and sheer perseverance to regenerate native forest from barren farmland.

Alwyn Seeley once reflected, “I have had many losses and failures, but fewer as I went on.” These words, shared in a 2009 book featuring 44 New Zealanders’ reflections on their love for native plants, encapsulate his determination and resilience.

By 2009, Alwyn had spent 50 years transforming the 2.2-hectare Putikitiki Gully in Hamilton East from a barren stretch of farmland into the thriving native oasis now known as the AJ Seeley Reserve.

A Vision Takes Root

When Alwyn purchased the steep-sided gully, it was part of a dairy farm, its grass-covered slopes prone to heavy frosts and its stream becoming a “raging torrent” during sudden downpours due to urban run-off. Inspired by Potts Reserve in Ōpōtiki, where Norman Potts extended remnants of Urewera bush, Alwyn envisioned something similar: a regenerated native forest where nature could reclaim its foothold.

Alwyn’s childhood on an intensively cultivated farm had nurtured his love of growing things, but he sought to grow more than crops. His goal was to restore the land to its native glory, a task for which there were no manuals or guides in the 1950s. His journey was one of trial and error, with both failures and hard-won successes.

Learning from the Land

Alwyn’s initial plantings were, by his own account, “a total failure.” Heavy frosts devastated his efforts until a friend suggested using Tagasaste (Tree Lucerne) as a nursery crop. This fast-growing, hardy plant provided the frost protection his young seedlings needed.

With this breakthrough, he planted 1,600 Tagasaste seedling s— a modest investment of £5 per hundred—and watched as dormant spores in the soil sprang to life, carpeting the ground with native ferns.

He began growing native plants in a nursery plot behind his house, an effort that deepened his connection to the land. “I grew to ‘know’ my juvenile plants and watched their transformation into mature vegetation,” he wrote. His passion was further fuelled by a stroke of good fortune when New Zealand Forest Products closed its native nursery. Alwyn acquired hundreds of bare-rooted rimu, tōtara, and kahikatea, which arrived in a railway wagon and were planted over a few “very busy weekends.”

A Community Effort

Alwyn’s bush restoration journey wasn’t solitary. He sourced plants from the Junior Naturalists Society, which collected local seeds and sold seedlings. Some plants came as gifts from patients of his ear, nose, and throat practice, who brought king ferns, nīkau palms, and mangeao to support his vision.

Occasionally, Alwyn’s approach diverged from a strict native restoration plan. He planted poplars to stabilise a slope but later removed them when he realised they were unsuitable. A more enduring departure was the grove of towering Californian Redwoods near the Armagh Street end of the reserve. These trees were bartered in exchange for removing a horticulturist’s son’s adenoids—a whimsical arrangement that left a lasting mark.

Refining the Approach

Over time, Alwyn refined his methods, transitioning from using Tree Lucerne to native nurse species like lacebark, mānuka, and cabbage trees. He planted these in clusters, allowing them to support one another and gradually filled in the gaps with other species as the canopy developed.

He also tackled invasive weeds with pragmatism and optimism. “If I have a good canopy above and ferns below, weeds are no problem,” he observed, though he admitted that ivy, wandering Jew, and inkweed could be “an unsightly nuisance” if light penetrated the forest floor. One of his homemade signs captured his philosophy succinctly: “I have every weed known to man but the bush will win in the end.”

A Legacy of Resilience

Today, the AJ Seeley Reserve stands as a testament to Alwyn’s dedication and ingenuity. Gifted to the Hamilton City Council, the reserve is a thriving haven of native biodiversity and a source of inspiration for gully restoration projects across Kirikiriroa. Alwyn’s story reminds us that restoration is a journey of patience, persistence, and partnership with nature.

For more information on gully restoration in Kirikiriroa, see the Hamilton City Council Gully Restoration Guide.