Gingidia

This profile was set to commence with a public service announcement; one specifically directed at any Syrian linguists who happened to find themselves reading about New Zealand’s members of the carrot family.

Until, that is, our minor intrigue was largely solved by a passage from David Gledhill’s ‘The Names of Plants’¹ – after an extended search that included looking into the origins of the Spanish word for carrot (zanahoria, derived from the beautiful Arabic name isfanāriyya).

I should really explain more about the inception of this nerdy caper, which started when I looked up Marie Taylor’s fine book, ‘Meanings and origins of botanical names of New Zealand plants’², to learn about the origins of the name Gingidia. Upon reading this, my curiosity was piqued by the following description – “Based on the vernacular name of a Syrian species of Daucus (carrot)”.

This led me to ponder on just what level of understanding Johann Reinhold and Georg Forster could have held regarding the naming of vegetables in Syrian dialects when they described the genus Gingidium³ (in ‘Characteres generum plantarum’). It just didn’t make sense that two German naturalists of the Enlightenment would have known what everyday 18th-Century Syrians called a carrot.

Until, that is, I finally came across Gledhill’s reference to its origins in the writings of Dioscorides – within the latter’s seminal pharmacopeia, ‘De materia medica‘. Amongst a range of umbellifers (including ligustikon and tordulion), Dioscorides referred to the use of staphulinos and gingidion as vegetables.

Staphulinos referred to a commonly-cultivated form of carrot, which was also noted to provide the added benefit that “those who take it beforehand shall experience no assault from wild beasts.” Certainly worth remembering should the need arise …..

Gingidion (γιγγίδιον in Ancient Greek) was described by Dioscorides as a smaller plant that grew in Cilicia (an ancient region located in what is now southern Turkey) and Syria, whose “root is somewhat white, pungent”.

Having learned this, the Forsters’ reasons for applying the name became much more apparent, as they would have been very familiar with Dioscorides (in addition to being well versed in Greek and Latin). My life may not be more complete in the knowledge that Gingidia is derived from an ancient Greek term (rather than a Syrian dialect) for an Eastern Mediterranean ‘carrot’, but it is interesting to trace the way in which knowledge recorded in the 1st Century AD informed the formal naming of one of our native genera on Cook’s second voyage to these shores.

The genus is confined to New Zealand and Australia, with 9 of the 12 recognised species endemic to our shores. In common with many other members of the carrot family, Gingidia species are palatable to pest species; an attribute that undoubtedly contributes to most of our native spp. being classified as under some form of threat.

In breaking news for anecdotal geology, we can unofficially verify that dolomite is much stronger than it looks – at least on our sole major dolomite peak, Mt Burnett. Although caution was not thrown to the wind on my first visit, I was pleased to find that the shattered, craggy outcrops that Gingidia haematitica inhabits were more trustworthy than initial impressions led me to believe.

Mt Burnett’s spectacular bluffs and outcrops are legendary amongst New Zealand botanists for a number of species and forms that are restricted to its distinctive substrates – including the small tree, Myrsine argentea and an endemic sedge, Carex dolomitica.

In the case of Gingidia haematitica, its major recognisable character appears to spring directly from the rock itself – with the specific epithet referring to the reddish-brown colouration of its attractive foliage. Given dolomite’s high magnesium content, it is perhaps unsurprising that similar mineral hues (notably reds and browns) are also exhibited in species from ultramafic environments – habitats that contain unusually high concentrations of iron and magnesium in the ground.

Gingidia haematitica is relatively easy to grow from seed, with the primary challenge for its successful cultivation being the provision of an appropriate soil environment for its taproot – a common issue for umbellifers in humid parts of the country. The image below emphasises the importance of both air movement and careful consideration of substrate (including the potential use of rock below ground) for G. haematitica‘s cultivation.

On the occasions that I have visited Mt Burnett, its population seemed to be stable – with sufficient positions that are inaccessible to pest species and consent conditions (for the quarrying activities on the mountain) to safeguard numbers. This is presumably a factor in its reclassification from ‘Nationally Critical’ to ‘Nationally Endangered’. The species was formally described in a 2013 paper, along with a new NZ species from the Main Divide, G. amphistoma, and an endangered eastern Australian species, G. rupicola.