Taranaki Stories
Showing stories tagged as Maori.
by Virginia Winder on 16 December 2009
When Parihaka was invaded by Armed Constabulary and volunteers on 5 November 1881, a five-year-old boy lost his toe.
That youngster grew up to be Sir Maui Pomare, New Zealand's first Maori doctor and the Minister of Health.
His great-granddaughter, Miria Pomare, talks about his remarkable life.
Although Miria was born many years after his death in 1930, she is the holder of Sir...
by Virginia Winder on 16 December 2009
Sleek as a seal, Kahe Te Rau-o-te-Rangi slips into the sea at the northern end of Kapiti Island and stretches out for the mainland.
On her back is a tiny raft, where baby Makere lies warm and dry, rocked to sleep by the rhythm of her mother's muscled arms.
As Kahe powers for shore, her mind is focused – she must get there to save the Te Rauparaha-led Ngati Toa people on Kapiti. They are soon...
by Sorrel Hoskin on 14 December 2009
If the black grains of sand on New Plymouth's Ngāmotu Beach could talk they would tell tales of tragedy and triumph, of pounding warriors' feet, the crack of cannon fire, the creaking of oars from boats and the steady development of a village turned town, turned city. Once a large sprawling beach, Ngāmotu has played an important part in both Māori and European history.
Close your...
by Rhonda Bartle on 09 December 2009
Lucy Takiora Lord worked for von Tempsky as a guide and interpreter. This is her account of his death from Puke Ariki archives. Ref: 2002-530
'They took the pa from the left. Von Tempsky and the others killed two chiefs and stepped over them and went straight into the pa and drove the Maoris out, set fire to the pa and looted everything and got a pet kaka. They burnt the...
by Rhonda Bartle on 09 December 2009
Ghosts walk at Pukerangiora. They whisper as you move your feet. Brush your elbow as you bend through the trees. Watch you step close to the cliff-face to watch the Waitara River wind far below you…
To get to Pukerangiora, take the Waitara Road that follows the right bank of the Waitara River, heading east from the coast. Soon you'll find the remains of Te Arei Pa....
by Sorrel Hoskin on 07 December 2009
A lone monument stands in a Pukearuhe paddock. It overlooks the ocean, where white tipped waves crash against crumbling cliffs. At its back grass covered hills disappear into the distance.
This is the memorial to Reverend John Whiteley, the pioneer missionary killed on this spot on 13 February 1869.
In the 1860s this paddock above the White Cliffs was home to the Pukearuhe...
by Virginia Winder on 07 December 2009
An ancient prophecy received by Aotearoa's first Maori king foretold the appearance of two spiritual birds of knowledge on the peak of Mount Taranaki.
Immediately before his coronation at Ngaruawahia, Potatau Wherowhero had a dream.
His descendents remember it like this: ‘Towards the south there is a sacred mountain; below the shadow of the mountain there is a tree with a branch...
by Virginia Winder on 07 December 2009
In a Taranaki dawn as colourless as a black-and-white photograph, hundreds of fighting men scramble to dress in the gloom.
More than 1500 volunteers and members of the Armed Constabulary slide swords into sheaths, pistols into pouches and throw rifles over shoulders. Some harness horses. Each man has 40 extra rounds of ammunition and enough rations to last two days.
As the sun rises on 5...
by Rhonda Bartle on 07 December 2009
Back in 1927, members of the Ohaku hapū of Ōhawe dreamed of building a motorised fishing boat so they could make fishing trips off the South Taranaki coast.
Though the hapū were almost self-sufficient, with good gardens producing excellent crops, it was decided a good seaworthy boat would keep them supplied with kai moana throughout the year.
They were particularly fond of shark,...
by Virginia Winder on 03 December 2009
The reverberating rhythm of unified voices rumbles from virgin bush.
‘Koterani, teihana!
Karaiti titi Kai.
Kopere, teihana!
Rire, rire, hau!’
In a clearing, Maori warriors are chanting around a niu or prayer stick. They raise their right hands above their heads and the earth-thumping beat of their feet causes nearby ferns to quiver. A cone-shaped mountain watches.
‘Koterani,...