Signposts - a blog about Te Ara the Encyclopedia of New Zealand

Great spotted kiwi

The kiwi has been named the Forest & Bird Bird of the Year. This was a great comeback after failing to make the top 10 last year, which I suspect was partly due to cultural cringe. Even this year the kiwi was lampooned as a ‘flightless national bore’ during voting. However, enough New Zealanders showed loyalty to our iconic national symbol to see it fly to the top of the list in 2009.

Though there may be a love-hate relationship with the kiwi it’s an important icon for New Zealanders who have named themselves, their currency, a Melbourne Cup-winning horse, a lottery and national league team after it. Well-known kiwi characters include Goodnight Kiwi, Fighting Kiwi (kiwi with taiaha on flag), Kapai Kiwi and Tahi the one-legged kiwi.

Just recently someone’s managed to find a kiwi in space, though it may be a bit like seeing ET in a nutrigrain – you see what you want to see.

Goodnight Kiwi

Golden Kiwi

Kiwi in space?

The kiwi has at times suffered a bit of an identity crisis. After seeing a kiwi skin in the 1800s a traveller claimed, ‘The emu is found in New Zealand, though we were never fortunate to meet with one.’

Americans (for whom kiwi means kiwifruit) must be confused by New Zealanders claiming to be a ‘fuzzy edible fruit with green meat’. Though not as confused as the child  who not so long ago approached a passerby outside Wellington zoo with a shoebox in tow. The child asked what he should do with the kiwi he had caught in his shoebox. The passerby asked to look at it. The lid was then removed to reveal a not-so-cuddly hedgehog.

Not kiwis

A kiwi?

Not a kiwi

Book cover of New Zealanders and the sea (click to see a larger image)

Just in time for New Zealand Book Month (and early Christmas shopping), Te Ara’s new book, New Zealanders and the sea, has hit the shops.

New Zealand’s 18,000-kilometre coastline is the seventh-longest of any country, and nowhere is more than 130 kilometres from the coast – so it’s not surprising that most New Zealanders have a strong relationship with the sea. The ancestors of Māori, and of most Pākehā, arrived here by sea; exports and imports are still largely dependent on sea ports.

New Zealanders and the sea looks at the ways we have engaged with the sea, using it for transport and for economic gain, as a source of food – and, of course, as a place for recreation and holidays. Based on entries from Te Ara’s Earth, Sea and Sky theme, New Zealanders and the sea takes in everything from castaways to the fishing industry to marine conservation to Tangaroa, Māori god of the sea.

There are stories of flocks of sheep driven along the beach or transported by sea; of the isolated lives of lighthouse keepers and their families; of Māori methods of fishing and storing the catch; of the appropriate attire to wear to the beach, and how that’s changed over time; of Nola and Berry Edwards and their shell-encrusted car.

And – like Te Ara – New Zealanders and the sea is beautifully illustrated, with remarkable images of whaling, of rescued castaways, lighthouses, waka and 1960s surfers – as well as these likely lads sitting outside their caravan with a few cold ones.

New Zealanders and the sea is available at all good bookstores, RRP $69.99 (ISBN 978-1-86953-681-7).

The waka, suspended above its tank (photo by Fin Bird)

The word got around at morning tea time: there was a waka (canoe) in our building. It had arrived earlier that morning, and was being welcomed with karakia (prayers).

In small groups, we were allowed to venture down and see it, so we set off down the stairs and through a maze of chilly corridors. And there it was, suspended above a tank and being carefully tended by conservator Dilys Johns.

Actually, it’s only part of a waka – the prow. It was found in the Hutt River, near Woburn, in 2006, and has been kept wet in a container ever since. Who made it, which iwi (tribe) they were from, or when they made it are all unknown. But it is thought to date from before Europeans came to New Zealand, so is at least 200 years old.

Apparently it was never completed, but I noticed that the inside of the waka had been worked to a very smooth surface. The outside was rougher, but that may have been due to sitting in the mud at the bottom of the river for so long.

It was this mud that Dilys – with the help of various interested and very keen Ministry for Culture and Heritage staff over the course of the day – was working at removing; gently scraping with ice-cream sticks, then hosing the surface. Once the mud is removed it will be submerged in a chemical – polyethylene glycol, or PEG. If it was just left to dry out, it would crack because it has been wet for so long. PEG will replace the water in the wood, so it can keep its shape and eventually be dried out.

This is the same conservation method that was used on the English warship the Mary Rose and the Swedish warship the Vasa. Like those ships, this waka prow may eventually end up as a museum piece. But, before then, it has to do two years of time soaking in its tank, and then around two years slow drying.

The arrival of the waka was the culmination of several months work by the ministry’s Heritage Operations unit, who had to put their thinking caps on to find a home that was big enough to house the enormous tank the waka is submerged in. Security and climate were also considerations – the room needs to be a constant temperature and preferably cool and dry.

You can find out more about this waka in this article in the Dominion Post, or in this piece on Māori Television’s news show Te Kāea (you’ll find it 9 minutes and 50 seconds in).

An iconic image of Mt Taranaki (Mt Egmont)

Taranaki is the next region to get its very own Te Ara Places entry. We’re currently editing the text and pulling together images and other resources, and it will be launched in early December.

And you can contribute to it by adding your pictures of Taranaki to our Flickr group pool!

We’ll be including in the entry an exhibition of photographs of the region. To have your Taranaki snaps considered for the exhibition, add them to Te Ara’s Flickr group pool in the next couple of weeks, as we’ll be making our decisions soon. Some images that have already been contributed include New Plymouth’s foreshore, the Wind Wand and Mt Taranaki (Mt Egmont).

We’ve found these exhibitions to be a great way of including more wonderful images than we otherwise could. You can look at similar exhibitions for Otago, Hawke’s Bay, Southland and the West Coast.

Another cultural organisation that is using keen Flickr photographers to help record our country’s heritage is the New Zealand Historic Places Trust. They have started an NZHPT Images Project group on Flickr, and are inviting people to contribute their images of historic places in New Zealand.

They’re posting lists of specific places they want photos for, and their latest list includes many in the Taranaki region – perhaps you might have photos you could add to both their pool and ours!

The spread of a tsunami, 2004

The devastating tsunami that hit the coasts of Samoa, American Samoa and Tonga on the morning of 30 September – with waves up to 6 metres high, flooding as far as 1.6 kilometres inland, and killing at least 150 people – was caused by a massive undersea earthquake of magnitude 8.3, some 190 kilometres south of Apia. The Samoa–Tonga region is one of the world’s most seismically active areas, where the Pacific and Australian plates collide – as they do diagonally across New Zealand.

Tsunamis are broad waves in oceans or lakes, caused by large disturbances, locally or far away – movement of the sea floor during earthquakes, landslides under or into the water, or even the impact of a meteor. The New Scientist has a detailed explanation of the causes of the 30 September tsunami.

While tsunamis might seem a remote possibility in New Zealand – perhaps explaining why some people headed for the beach rather than the hills during Wednesday’s tsunami alert – in fact the country has experienced many tsunamis over the centuries. Māori tradition discusses a huge wave that killed many people on the western side of D’Urville Island, and there is archaeological evidence of early Māori moving inland or uphill from coastal settlements, along with evidence of tsunamis near the abandoned villages.

Since Pākehā settlement, there have been no tsunami deaths in mainland New Zealand. But the 1855 Wairarapa earthquake generated a tsunami in Cook Strait which destroyed sheds more than 8 metres above the sea at Te Kopi in Palliser Bay. In March 1947 the coast north of Gisborne was hit by a tsunami after an earthquake. A bridge was swept away, the Tatapōuri Hotel was flooded, and some buildings were sucked out to sea. June Young, whose family owned the hotel, remembers the giant wave, and the seaweed that was left hanging in the power lines. Remarkably, no one died.

But, tragically, this week’s tsunami has wreaked devastation across the south coast of Samoa and American Samoa, and on Niuatoputapu island in Tonga. Those losses are being keenly felt in New Zealand too, as a Pacific nation where many Samoans and Tongans make their home, and the site of the world’s largest Polynesian city. At least three New Zealanders died in the tsunami, with many more still unaccounted for at the time of writing.

New Zealanders have already given over $350,000 to relief agencies’ tsunami appeals; here’s a list of agencies, if you’d like to make a donation.