Getting back to nature with Sam the Trap Man

Best-selling author Sam Gibson lives in Tairāwhiti Gisborne and is known to many Kiwis for teaching the younger generation about bushlore and conservation. The father of two, who first came to attention via his social posts as Sam the Trap Man, advocates for kaitiakitanga and in his latest book, which is chocka with Kiwi characters, shares his knowledge and love of nature’s bounty.

A Bushman’s Book of Yarns by Sam Gibson ($45, Sam the Trap Man).

When did you first develop your love for the whenua?

The first time I really remember feeling seen by nature was after a hard day’s fishing at Whanarua when I was young. The fishing was pretty slow, then a little nibble tickled my rod tip, which turned into a tug, then a huge whack and the drag was screeching. I fought that fish with all the power my skinny little arms could muster. When the fish eventually burst the surface, it looked like someone had draped old leather scraps from a beaten-up sofa over a dented frame of a fish. But my poppa’s eyes gleamed. “That’s a John Dory,” he said. “Best eating fish in the ocean and pretty difficult to catch too.” That fish fed our family that night and Poppa was right; it was the best-eating fish.

You’re a bushman, conservationist, father, husband and a new district councillor; which role is most important?

Being a father and husband is hands-down my priority. At first, it was a case of supporting my beautiful wife as best I could. I ground out 60- to 70-hour weeks balancing work and side hustles to scrape together the funds to pay the mortgage each week. For a while, that’s what it meant to be a dad, providing. Now the balance is much better. When our kids finish school, most days I take them bush or adventuring, whatever interests they are into, or get them helping with projects around the home. Rehua [son] has started working with me as a trapper each month and Kōkō [daughter] is mad keen on fishing.

We have lots of adventures. My roles as co-chair of Eastern Whio Link, as a Gisborne District councillor, travelling the country as a speaker or running workshops, as well as my book writing, social media platform and ecological consultancy keep me pretty busy.

Tell us about some of the characters in your book

We have a good crew of mates: George Zame, the fun-loving larrikin; Paul Roper, who carries whole beef briskets into the bush to make sure he doesn’t go hungry; Harriet Kemp, the farmer from East Cape who will walk the legs off you, out-hunt you and out-provide you in every way possible. Then there’s the skinny bush rat of a kiwi catcher, James Fraser and the Super Seaman from Fiordland who takes young fellas under his wing and teaches them how to survive in the inhospitable cold of Dusky Sound.

You’ve incorporated a native plants and a trees guide; what are some plants to look out for?

Tāwiniwini, our snowberries, are alpine bundles of joy that taste like watered-down blueberries; mingimingi, our sand coprosma, provides sweet, jewel-like bush lollies and the tāwaka, which is nutty and rich in mushroom flavour.

A handful of kōhia (native passionfruit).

Do you and your family have a māra kai?

I grow vegetables in a series of raised beds, which we rotate through with the chickens (my other passion) and seaweed from the beach throughout the year. Roimata, my wife, grows hue (gourds).

Why should we encourage young people to spend more time out in the bush?

Because it’s good for us. In a world where so much of our existence is dictated by a small handheld screen, the bush brings us back to balance. And the bush needs us there just as much as we need the bush. It needs us trapping, hunting and learning the way it functions, just like our forebears did.