Why trapping is more than just checking boxes - a day with Sam the Trap Man

“We can be someone who checks traps, or we can be trappers.” Wise words from Sam Gibson—known by many as Sam the Trap Man—a seasoned bushman and ecologist with over 20 years of on-the-ground experience in pest control across Aotearoa. Recently, members of the Haakarimata Restoration Group had the privilege of learning from Sam at a hands-on workshop sponsored by Hamilton City Council and Go Eco.

image © Dave Sheely, Haakarimata Restoration Group

When fruit are abundant on the forest floor, possums may nibble on the stem-ends of kohekohe leaves to vary their diet.

We were reminded by Sam that there’s nothing wrong with simply walking the line and checking traps. But if we want to turn the tide for our native wildlife, we need to become true trappers—people who know their tools, understand the habits of the species they’re up against, and can read the ecology of the forest. In the ngahere is a complex web of food sources—used by birds, insects, pest animals, and people. The best trappers, Sam said, learn to pay attention to these relationships, noticing how they shift with the seasons and over time. A trapper with this kind of holistic and engaged understanding will know where to put traps (on trees possums use for food, not social interaction) and what to use as a lure (leveraging scarcity of protein vs. carbohydrate in seasons). Not only that, but they will be able to sweeten the deal by foraging on ‘bush lollies’ along the way.

Sam also played a pivotal role in designing some of Aotearoa’s most trusted traps, and during the workshop, he showed us just how important it is to properly clean and service our DOC200s. Ensuring the correct trigger weight—typically between 50–100 grams—ensures we are trapping both effectively and humanely.

The workshop was more than just practical skills—it was a chance for people from all over the community to connect. Hamilton is home to an extraordinary network of streams that feed into the Waikato River. These waterways carve out steep-banked gullies, creating unique ecological corridors spanning over 750 hectares of green space. Dozens of local groups are working tirelessly to protect and restore these gullies—and the results are starting to show.

As if to endorse our mahi, a korimako (bellbird)—a rare visitor to Hamilton—sang out beside the Mangakotukutuku Stream as the group descended into the gully. One day, we hope the sweet song of bellbirds will become a familiar sound again—both in the gullies of Hamilton and in the hills of Haakarimata. Like the awa flowing between them, the success of these projects, and the communities supporting them are deeply connected.