Unlike our Antipodean neighbour, New Zealand has very little in the way of harmful flora and fauna. Yet Matthew Pike recalls brainlessly encountering the most harmful of all... and how it almost killed him
“Can you tell me what the date is?” asked the paramedic, as he helped me up from the bed. I couldn’t. I was fairly sure it was winter, but did that mean it was January or August? What hemisphere was I in? “Can you tell me your name?” tried the paramedic again, as he sat me down in the ambulance. “Matt,” I replied. “That’s good,” he said. “You couldn’t tell us that a few minutes ago.” I was aware enough by this stage to realise my memory loss was unusual, but this paled in comparison to the swathes of pain striking through my left arm. It was as close to unbearable as any pain I’d experienced. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t keep still. There was no way of sitting where it didn’t hurt. “We need you to keep still Matt,” said the paramedic, sternly. ‘F*** you!’ I thought. ‘If you were in this much pain, you wouldn’t sit still either.’ “Where does it hurt?” asked the paramedic. “My right side… no, my left side.” Lauren, my partner, then noticed there was something strange about my left shoulder. It looked as if it had melted. “His arm has come out of its socket,” said one of the paramedics, before giving me my first dose of morphine. This is known as a ‘post seizure anterior dislocation’ and is not uncommon given my recent episode. Thank goodness for morphine and ‘happy gas’. Combined, they made the process of popping my arm back into place both enjoyable and hilarious. I wasn’t entirely surprised to learn that I’d suffered a violent seizure. The symptoms had been building throughout the night and I’d feared it might happen while always hoping there was nothing seriously wrong. It must have been the plant I’d eaten. But how could it be? It was only supplejack.Thank goodness for morphine and ‘happy gas’. They made the process of popping my arm back into place both enjoyable and hilariousI’d recently been told that new shoots of supplejack taste delicious and are often known as ‘New Zealand asparagus’ because they look rather like large shoots of asparagus before they reach their adult vine form. On a trip to Mokora Falls, in the Waitakere Ranges, I spied what looked like giant asparagus shoots. ‘Aha – this must be it,’ I thought, snapping one of the shoots near the base. I carried it home and looked for pictures of new supplejack shoots on the internet for comparison. Photos were few and far between, but there were a couple, and both I and a housemate agreed that they were of the same plant I’d carried home. I took a bite out of the plant. It was revolting. The flavour was both sharp and bitter. I spat it out and rinsed my mouth with water. [caption id="attachment_2590" align="aligncenter" width="1280"]

I’m told I’m not alone in having made this mistake but, depressingly, almost everyone who has done likewise has been either a cow or a sheepShe told me that in Henry Connor’s book Plants that poison – a New Zealand Guide, Connor describes tutu as ‘the classic poison plant’. “The species you encountered was most probably coriaria arborea because this is the most common species of tutu and it’s easy to see how a young shoot could be mistaken for supplejack,” Schöenberger says. I’m told I’m not alone in having made this mistake but, depressingly, almost everyone who has done likewise has been either a cow or a sheep. The plant immediately became a nightmare for early farmers once they began grazing livestock here. In fact, Captain Cook himself lost some of his beasts to the dreaded plant. Cattle are particularly susceptible to having a nibble and there have been cases when farmers reported losing up to 75 per cent of their herd from eating tutu. Amazingly, there have been two reports of circus elephants keeling over and dropping dead after engaging in a fatal snack. Two more elephants in the 1960s had their tutu meals rudely interrupted by their owner when he discovered what they were munching. Both had seizures but were injected with barbiturates and survived. Tutu is a shrub found across New Zealand on the margins of coastal and mountain forests and in grassland and shrubland. It can grow up to six-metres high. In Plants that poison, Connor describes rather soberingly the effects of tutin – the toxin in the tutu plant: ‘Tutin acts on the central nervous system leading to excitement, epileptiform convulsions, exhaustion, and a comatose state; death may occur during the convulsions. Breathing is usually affected, and defecation and micturition (passing urine) are more frequent. Mucous membranes and lungs may be congested. [caption id="attachment_2593" align="alignright" width="281"]

