| Hokianga History and Memorabilia |
| Brief History of the Hokianga edited by the Hokianga Historical Society |
updated - 18 December 2008
Contact:
Hokianga Historical Society
Contact:
Hokianga Historical Society
| Website designed, installed and maintained by : Ken Baker, Brussels, Belgium |
MAORI BEGINNINGS
From the water, or sometimes from the top of one of Hokianga's high hills, it is possible to imagine what the
harbour was like centuries ago, before the human race arrived to make its modifications. To really find
out, you would need to go back nine or ten centuries in time - that's when archaeologists and oral tradition
suggest that Maori made their first landfall from their original island home of Hawaiki. It was the great
Polynesian explorer Kupe who after sailing round the North Island and naming places as he went, settled
on the Hokianga Harbour as his home. Te Puna i te ao marama (The spring of the world of light) was his
rather beautiful name for the harbour, and so it stayed until in his old age he decided to return to Hawaiki.
The words he uttered then about his decision became the preferred name for the harbour and immortalised
his years here - "Hei konei ra i te puna i te ao marama, ka hoki nei ahau, e kore ano e hokianga-nui mai" -
"This the spring of the world of light, I shall not come back here again". So the name Te Hokianga nui a
Kupe was given, and in time became simply "Hokianga".
Tradition has it that Kupe's returning canoe, Matawhaorua, was re-adzed for greater carrying capacity by a
later descendant, Nukutawhiti, who renamed it Nga-toki-matawhaorua. Together with a brother-in-law
Ruanui on the canoe Mamari, and no doubt the families of each, he followed Kupe's navigational directions
to sail to New Zealand. Once arrived in the Hokianga harbour they settled, one on the north side, the other
on the south, so founding the peoples of the north who are now known as the Ngapuhi.
Oral history takes on different versions as centuries pass and it is presented from a variety of view points.
There is no right or wrong version, only different; the result is a rich range of traditions where it is
impossible to summarise. The accounts of the subsequent populating of Hokianga, and the complex
affiliations of the developing tribal groups, are best left to such works as The Peopling of the North by S
Percy Smith (Journal of the Polynesian Society, Vol 5) or Hokianga by Jack Lee (1987) Mention must be
made, though, of Rahiri, the 17th century ancestor from whom all who call themselves Ngapuhi descend.
Born on Whiria, the distinctive and impregnable pa at Pakanae near Hokianga's South Head, he made two
strategic marriages whose offspring form the basis for many of the chiefly lines in the north. A monument
to Rahiri now stands on the summit of Whiria hill.
EUROPEAN ARRIVALS
Forward to 1800, and
European culture and
artefacts are beginning
to make themselves felt.
The narrow Hokianga
harbour entrance was
missed by explorers
credited with 'discovering'
New Zealand and remained
unmapped until 1820, but over at the Bay of Islands there was an early and rapid invasion of whalers and
traders bearing iron tools, wool and cotton materials and of course muskets. The benefits of these were
not lost on the Hokianga chiefs on their cross-country visits. By 1819, they had persuaded the
missionary/trader Rev. Samuel Marsden on one of his visits from Sydney to the Bay of Islands, with tales of
the quantity and quality of the Hokianga kauri, to make an expedition overland to see for himself. Marsden
and his group spent upwards of two weeks on the harbour and its tributaries, making strategic contacts with
interested chiefs and carrying out the first sounding of the harbour entrance. Early the following year,
the first known European ship crossed the harbour bar – the schooner Prince Regent, under Captain John
Rodolphus Kent, on 29 March 1820. The trade in Hokianga kauri was about to begin. Two years later,
the ship Providence under Captain Herd entered the harbour and loaded “a quantity of fine spars” – during
the time also making a chart of the river and the bar which was used for subsequent entries.
Trade of course was also in land. The first New Zealand Company, planning colonisation, included
Hokianga in their 1825-7 expedition to New Zealand and contracted Captain Herd with the Rosanna to buy
land there: he negotiated with the Chief Muriwai and others to buy the promontory where Rawene now
stands. The land was bought but there was no settlement made; for an unknown reason the Rosanna
instead left rather suddenly for Sydney and the expedition was called off. When the second New Zealand
Company visited in 1839 to inspect the site Herd had chosen they were unimpressed and did not press
their claim.
MISSION ACTIVITY
A more definite and permanent land sale was made in 1827 by the little group of Wesleyan missionaries
who had previously been forced to leave their first settlement in Whangaroa. They had taken refuge in
Sydney where the Hokianga chief Patuone approached them with an invitation to come under his protection
to Hokianga instead – which they did, arriving at the end of 1826. They made their headquarters at
Mangungu, somewhat downstream from Patuone’s village, later building other stations at Mangamuka,
Waima and Pakanae as well as places further south.
Eleven years after the Wesleyans, in 1838, Bishop Pompallier with two French Marist priests arrived in
Hokianga in response to pleas from Catholic settlers, and after trying a site near Omanaia, based their
mission on the northern side of the harbour at Purakau. The Bishop himself soon realised that the Bay of
Islands would be more effective as his headquarters and moved to Kororareka, but one priest was left to
continue the work at Purakau. Between the Wesleyans and the Catholics the differing teaching and
practices were often contradictory and confusing, with bad feeling shown on both sides. Maori, however,
resolved the problem in their own way by adopting whatever practices sat comfortably with their own culture
and keeping ‘on side’ with both parties as much as possible. The various denominations now exist
amicably and interchangeably together, easily overlapping family members.
SHIP-BUILDING
Muriwai had already been involved in a land sale to a Sydney firm of an area across the harbour at
Horeke. This became the site of New Zealand's first ship-building enterprise, which was established in
1826 under the management of Captain David Clark. At its peak it employed 50 shipwrights and mill
hands, and three sizeable ships were built in the period to 1830. The owners went bankrupt shortly after
and the business was sold; the milling continued but no more ships were built there. A small bronze plaque
near the waterfront at Horeke commemorates the years of that first industry.
HOKIANGA'S SIGNAL STATION
The harbour mouth opens to the Tasman Sea, turbulent in many moods. Like most west-coast rivers or
harbours there is a shifting sand bar about a mile out from the heads, treacherous even to those who know
it well, and when a south-westerly storm also sweeps in few responsible sea captains would consider
entering.
For the Maori, safe passage could be assured by a Tohunga who had special powers and strong karakia to
control the wind and waves. No doubt common sense played a part too. But the Europeans were not so
lucky: in the early years of the timber trade at least five ships came to grief in or around the entrance. This
led John Martin, a seaman who had previously been Captain Kent's first mate before settling on land just
inside the Heads, with the encouragement of local chief Moetara, to provide a pilot service for incoming
ships. Later, on his own initiative but still with local Maori support, he also erected a signalling mast on the
high point of the South Head. Signals were based on an accepted code of coloured flags and the flagstaff
also worked on a pivot so it could droop to the north or south to direct a change of course as vessels
approached. It is possible that John Martin's service, begun in 1832, was the first of New Zealand's
navigational aids, and it seems to have been without remuneration until he was officially appointed
considerably later. He retired in 1858 but the position of pilot stayed in the family until 1870, by which time
the Marine Department had been established and made its own appointments. The pilot station, adapted
and updated to suit the times, remained in operation until 1951 when technology and decreased harbour
use brought its closure and dismantling. The final flagstaff still sees good use, however, above the R.S.A.
hall in Opononi, and the final signal light is in the local museum.
TIMBER-MILLING
For the next hundred years, the principal industry and export remained timber - mostly kauri, but puriri, rimu
and the white pine kahikatea were also cut in quantity. Initially the demand was for tall straight young trees
to form spars for the ships of the British Navy: in the upper harbour these were plentiful right to the water's
edge. The flax trade flourished briefly at this time for the same reason (New Zealand flax made good tough
rope) But squared and cut timber for building continued to be in demand in Australia and elsewhere
throughout the nineteenth century. Small individually owned mills dotted the harbour with varying success
until the 1880's, when the giant Melbourne-based Kauri Timber Company swept in with new technology and
a firm financial base. They bought up existing mills and established new ones at Waimamaku and Koutu, in
the latter creating a township with school, store and housing out of a quiet little peninsula. Within thirty
years the hills were stripped of most usable timber and little but scrub and bare stumps remained,
bordering a harbour which had lost its pristine clarity through the dumping of sawdust and the beginnings
of soil erosion. With the timber dwindling the Kauri Timber Company moved on, closing most of its large
mills and leaving a population searching for new employment.
ASSISTED SETTLEMENTS
During the slump of the 1880's, when unemployment in the towns was high, a government practice of
buying up tracts of unused land for assisted settlement hastened this denudement. Families were leased
fifty acre blocks cheaply in return for breaking it in, in many cases being supplied with fruit-trees to plant
each year, with the hope that they would eventually supply the city markets with reasonably priced
produce. Six of these settlements were in the Hokianga region. Given the isolation that still has its effect
on finding markets, the idea was a pipe-dream: Of those six settlements, only one (Waimamaku) survived
to celebrate its centennial in 1988. Even before they arrived its settlers had formed themselves into a
homogeneous organisation, and they had unfailing support from the adjacent Maori community. Early on,
they also had the foresight to abandon fruit-growing in favour of dairy farming, establishing a co-operative
cheese factory in 1903, only fifteen years into the existence of the settlement.
Some settlements, less cohesive at the beginning and with back-breaking, unforgiving land to work, barely
got off the ground. Finances were always short and numbers of men left their farms to earn money on the
adjacent gum-fields, or by stone-breaking for road construction. In others, after a short trial many families
returned to the more familiar life of the towns and their 50 acre blocks were taken over or absorbed into
other properties.
But every settlement had its school central to the community and though the number of children went up
and down the school building was put to many and varied uses – church services, socials, choir-practice,
library, political meetings, electoral booth…
COUNTY COUNCIL ESTABLISHMENT
In 1876 the first Local Government Act was passed and County boundaries proclaimed throughout New
Zealand. Hokianga was to have two ridings, Waihou and Waima, with seven councillors; the first elections
were to be held on Friday, 22 December 1876 with the first meeting in the Magistrates Court, Herds Point,
on Tuesday 9th January 1877. The speed at which it was pushed through took the settlers by surprise, but
not the Maori population. When the first results were announced, Hokianga had three Maori councillors,
two European and two half-and-half – an accurate representation of the population both then and now.
It was a ratio never achieved again.
As a side-effect, Herds Point, or Rawene as it was increasingly called, now had new status as the County
town which gave it a slight edge over the larger and more prosperous Kohukohu. Inter-town rivalry was
alive and well.
THE DOG TAX WAR
The first week of May, 1898, saw the culmination of a strongly-held sense of injustice on the part of Maori
against the imposition of a European-made regulation, the Dog Tax, upon them. Hitherto Maori
communities had not been generally subject to European taxes, but ten years earlier the Hokianga County
Council, desperate for funds and in an effort to control the increasing dog population with their
depredations on local farm stock, had legislated that the dog-tax of 2/6d per dog applied to all dog owners.
This followed the practice of other counties to raise finances. Posters in Maori and English were produced
and, after the local policeman had intimated that he could not afford the time, the collection of the tax was
put into the hands of a hired lay person. The people of Waima refused to pay. They were threatened with
arrest. Under the leadership of Mahurehure chief Hone Toia they stood firm and continued to refuse to
pay. After increasingly dire threats, such as banishment to ice-bound regions forever, they decided to
march upon the County headquarters in Rawene in a show of force to settle the matter in their own way.
Twenty-five years had passed since the worst of the Waikato wars, but reaction was immediate and
definite. The Government despatched a column of the Permanent Force, 120 strong, with two Nordenfeldt
field guns and two Maxims and the gun-boat Torch; The Glenelg made an extra trip to evacuate all women
and children from Rawene. The current Northern Maori MP, Hone Heke, left Parliament in session and
came post-haste north to join other elders and chiefs in defusing the situation. Within a day of his arrival
the Mahurehure leaders lay down their arms and surrendered; the whole episode was over in less than a
week. Not so for the Mahurehure. Their leaders were arrested, taken to Auckland for trial on the grounds
of treason, and imprisoned for a term in Mt Eden. Only one shot had been fired, and that was into the air
through excitement. Hone Heke lost his Parliamentary pay for the time he was absent. The Dog Tax
remained in force.
DAIRY-FARMING
As the forest retreated, dairy farming proved to be the way to go, given the high rainfall of the region and
the limited size of many cleared farms. Herds were small, families did the milking. In 1907, a co-operative
was formed to establish a dairy factory at Motukaraka, one of the assisted settlement areas. It was built on
the harbour, with its own wharf, and its catchment area ran from Mitimiti to Waimamaku in the west to
Otaua/Punakitere in the east, taking in all tributaries of the harbour in between. Waimamaku farmers, who
had their cheese factory already operating, had to choose - cheese or butter? Whole milk or cream only?
Big cans or small? Local or distant? Cream was collected by launch wherever possible, being sledged or
drayed from land bases. Collection was of necessity governed by tide-times, and launch drivers were
skilled in navigating into and up the correct tributaries at any time of the day or night. The launches -
named appropriately the Dairy Maid, the Butterfly etc. - were built to accommodate maximum cream-cans,
full or empty: empties being dropped off as full cans were taken on.
By about 1920 enterprising farmers were experimenting with milking-machines and also cream separators.
The extra technology did not always make life simpler; the first milking machines involved the milk being
pumped into large buckets which had to be watched and emptied at the right time. The separator with all
its intricate parts took more care and time to wash and scald. Dairying was still a full family affair, and
remained so as WW II took many of the men away.
Hokianga did not get electric power until the early 1950's; before that it was kerosene lamps and petrol
engine for the milking machine, or diesel generator shared between house and shed. Morning and
evening the countryside was filled with the throb of motors. The advent of electricity changed every
aspect of life, even though the line to the more remote places was of such low voltage that, for instance,
cooking could not start till the milking was finished.
With hindsight, these were the decades of prosperity - enough work, enough income, for all, and mostly
generated from within the community. But the two local dairy factories were facing demands to upgrade, to
tighten hygiene regulations, to install new plant…Waimamaku's cheese now had to be made from
pasteurised milk, changing its texture and taste (but not for the better). A merger was suggested, linking
the two with the larger Bay of Islands Dairy company.
In 1957, this was agreed to. Almost immediately, Motukaraka suppliers were notified that their cream would
now be taken by road to Moerewa, and Motukaraka would close - it was uneconomic, the launch collection
cost too much to run. To the whole community, this was a body blow. The launches had been a lifeline for
many small farmers around the harbour as their means of transport; even though roads were improving in
the north, the river was still the main road, and the dairy factory had been a friendly meeting-place. With
hindsight, again, this one action of closure is held to spell the end of Hokianga's prosperity. Waimamaku's
cheese-making limped on until 1972. Under local control, but monitored from the Bay of Islands Dairy
Company, it had difficulty keeping ahead of increasingly stringent standards of production. Its suppliers
were dwindling as farmers retired and the next generation looked for easier city jobs. So, regretfully, it was
closed, and Hokianga no longer had any industry it could call its own.
OPO THE DOLPHIN
The summer of 1955-56 will always be remembered as the summer of the dolphin - the few months when
the village of Opononi was invaded by crowds of holiday-makers come to see a young dolphin willing to
play with humans.
and was contracted to supply the NZ Herald with
photographs; the other, the veteran film-maker Rudall Hayward who was commissioned from the USA to
supply footage of the events.
One can only speculate what Opononi would be like now, had Opo lived longer. But after the few months of
that summer of 1956 she disappeared, and a day or two later was found dead, stranded in rocks a little way
up the harbour. There was no autopsy, so what caused her death will never be known. The whole
community mourned for her. She was buried in front of Opononi's newly built RSA Hall, close by the stretch
of harbour she played in and knew best. Later, a "Boy on a dolphin" statue by Russell Clark was erected
in her memory close by.
THE 'HIPPIE' ERA
With empty farms being sold for a song, the way was open for a further migration: Alternative lifestylers in
search of a truly alternative lifestyle away from the city. Hokianga had much to offer in this way and in
many parts of the region groups of young people moved in - many of them well educated, creative and
idealistic. Some moved into empty houses, others built their own using materials that came to hand. Some
were fair-weather trialists, but others were stayers, determined to live out the difficulties and create a better
life for themselves and their families.
Relations were often uneasy between the newcomers and the old established settlers. The County
Council, the Medical Officer of Health and the Police each had their concerns about the possible effects
that the newcomers' lifestyle might have on the community at large. Older farmers could not comprehend
why anyone should want to return to such pioneering ways as earth floors and raupo roofing, and were sad
to see fields which had once been cleared by backbreaking toil, reverting to scrub and bush. On the
whole, though, toleration and co-operation won through; the children went to school, their parents took part
in community doings, a new dimension enlivened what had been a depressed community.
INTO THE 21ST CENTURY
Nation-wide changes to the social structure have not helped Hokianga. No bank operates in the area, no
post shops (though postal agencies in the local stores carry out the day-to-day postal business) and lack
of current employment opportunities means that most young persons are forced to leave the area. There
is little spare money for anything but the basics of living and new businesses find it hard to stay afloat.
Tourism, the white hope of many areas of Northland, varies according to the state of the dollar.
On the other hand, it is one of the most beautiful and relatively unspoilt parts of New Zealand: its low
population means uncluttered beaches and room to move; the climate is mild at all times of the year and
the gardens grow well. The people are an amalgam of Maori / pakeha, old and young, academic and
practical, way-out and conservative, in which everyone generally respects each other's ways. A small
piece of Paradise? Some think so.
From the water, or sometimes from the top of one of Hokianga's high hills, it is possible to imagine what the
harbour was like centuries ago, before the human race arrived to make its modifications. To really find
out, you would need to go back nine or ten centuries in time - that's when archaeologists and oral tradition
suggest that Maori made their first landfall from their original island home of Hawaiki. It was the great
Polynesian explorer Kupe who after sailing round the North Island and naming places as he went, settled
on the Hokianga Harbour as his home. Te Puna i te ao marama (The spring of the world of light) was his
rather beautiful name for the harbour, and so it stayed until in his old age he decided to return to Hawaiki.
The words he uttered then about his decision became the preferred name for the harbour and immortalised
his years here - "Hei konei ra i te puna i te ao marama, ka hoki nei ahau, e kore ano e hokianga-nui mai" -
"This the spring of the world of light, I shall not come back here again". So the name Te Hokianga nui a
Kupe was given, and in time became simply "Hokianga".
Tradition has it that Kupe's returning canoe, Matawhaorua, was re-adzed for greater carrying capacity by a
later descendant, Nukutawhiti, who renamed it Nga-toki-matawhaorua. Together with a brother-in-law
Ruanui on the canoe Mamari, and no doubt the families of each, he followed Kupe's navigational directions
to sail to New Zealand. Once arrived in the Hokianga harbour they settled, one on the north side, the other
on the south, so founding the peoples of the north who are now known as the Ngapuhi.
Oral history takes on different versions as centuries pass and it is presented from a variety of view points.
There is no right or wrong version, only different; the result is a rich range of traditions where it is
impossible to summarise. The accounts of the subsequent populating of Hokianga, and the complex
affiliations of the developing tribal groups, are best left to such works as The Peopling of the North by S
Percy Smith (Journal of the Polynesian Society, Vol 5) or Hokianga by Jack Lee (1987) Mention must be
made, though, of Rahiri, the 17th century ancestor from whom all who call themselves Ngapuhi descend.
Born on Whiria, the distinctive and impregnable pa at Pakanae near Hokianga's South Head, he made two
strategic marriages whose offspring form the basis for many of the chiefly lines in the north. A monument
to Rahiri now stands on the summit of Whiria hill.
EUROPEAN ARRIVALS
Forward to 1800, and
European culture and
artefacts are beginning
to make themselves felt.
The narrow Hokianga
harbour entrance was
missed by explorers
credited with 'discovering'
New Zealand and remained
unmapped until 1820, but over at the Bay of Islands there was an early and rapid invasion of whalers and
traders bearing iron tools, wool and cotton materials and of course muskets. The benefits of these were
not lost on the Hokianga chiefs on their cross-country visits. By 1819, they had persuaded the
missionary/trader Rev. Samuel Marsden on one of his visits from Sydney to the Bay of Islands, with tales of
the quantity and quality of the Hokianga kauri, to make an expedition overland to see for himself. Marsden
and his group spent upwards of two weeks on the harbour and its tributaries, making strategic contacts with
interested chiefs and carrying out the first sounding of the harbour entrance. Early the following year,
the first known European ship crossed the harbour bar – the schooner Prince Regent, under Captain John
Rodolphus Kent, on 29 March 1820. The trade in Hokianga kauri was about to begin. Two years later,
the ship Providence under Captain Herd entered the harbour and loaded “a quantity of fine spars” – during
the time also making a chart of the river and the bar which was used for subsequent entries.
Trade of course was also in land. The first New Zealand Company, planning colonisation, included
Hokianga in their 1825-7 expedition to New Zealand and contracted Captain Herd with the Rosanna to buy
land there: he negotiated with the Chief Muriwai and others to buy the promontory where Rawene now
stands. The land was bought but there was no settlement made; for an unknown reason the Rosanna
instead left rather suddenly for Sydney and the expedition was called off. When the second New Zealand
Company visited in 1839 to inspect the site Herd had chosen they were unimpressed and did not press
their claim.
MISSION ACTIVITY
A more definite and permanent land sale was made in 1827 by the little group of Wesleyan missionaries
who had previously been forced to leave their first settlement in Whangaroa. They had taken refuge in
Sydney where the Hokianga chief Patuone approached them with an invitation to come under his protection
to Hokianga instead – which they did, arriving at the end of 1826. They made their headquarters at
Mangungu, somewhat downstream from Patuone’s village, later building other stations at Mangamuka,
Waima and Pakanae as well as places further south.
Eleven years after the Wesleyans, in 1838, Bishop Pompallier with two French Marist priests arrived in
Hokianga in response to pleas from Catholic settlers, and after trying a site near Omanaia, based their
mission on the northern side of the harbour at Purakau. The Bishop himself soon realised that the Bay of
Islands would be more effective as his headquarters and moved to Kororareka, but one priest was left to
continue the work at Purakau. Between the Wesleyans and the Catholics the differing teaching and
practices were often contradictory and confusing, with bad feeling shown on both sides. Maori, however,
resolved the problem in their own way by adopting whatever practices sat comfortably with their own culture
and keeping ‘on side’ with both parties as much as possible. The various denominations now exist
amicably and interchangeably together, easily overlapping family members.
SHIP-BUILDING
Muriwai had already been involved in a land sale to a Sydney firm of an area across the harbour at
Horeke. This became the site of New Zealand's first ship-building enterprise, which was established in
1826 under the management of Captain David Clark. At its peak it employed 50 shipwrights and mill
hands, and three sizeable ships were built in the period to 1830. The owners went bankrupt shortly after
and the business was sold; the milling continued but no more ships were built there. A small bronze plaque
near the waterfront at Horeke commemorates the years of that first industry.
HOKIANGA'S SIGNAL STATION
The harbour mouth opens to the Tasman Sea, turbulent in many moods. Like most west-coast rivers or
harbours there is a shifting sand bar about a mile out from the heads, treacherous even to those who know
it well, and when a south-westerly storm also sweeps in few responsible sea captains would consider
entering.
For the Maori, safe passage could be assured by a Tohunga who had special powers and strong karakia to
control the wind and waves. No doubt common sense played a part too. But the Europeans were not so
lucky: in the early years of the timber trade at least five ships came to grief in or around the entrance. This
led John Martin, a seaman who had previously been Captain Kent's first mate before settling on land just
inside the Heads, with the encouragement of local chief Moetara, to provide a pilot service for incoming
ships. Later, on his own initiative but still with local Maori support, he also erected a signalling mast on the
high point of the South Head. Signals were based on an accepted code of coloured flags and the flagstaff
also worked on a pivot so it could droop to the north or south to direct a change of course as vessels
approached. It is possible that John Martin's service, begun in 1832, was the first of New Zealand's
navigational aids, and it seems to have been without remuneration until he was officially appointed
considerably later. He retired in 1858 but the position of pilot stayed in the family until 1870, by which time
the Marine Department had been established and made its own appointments. The pilot station, adapted
and updated to suit the times, remained in operation until 1951 when technology and decreased harbour
use brought its closure and dismantling. The final flagstaff still sees good use, however, above the R.S.A.
hall in Opononi, and the final signal light is in the local museum.
TIMBER-MILLING
For the next hundred years, the principal industry and export remained timber - mostly kauri, but puriri, rimu
and the white pine kahikatea were also cut in quantity. Initially the demand was for tall straight young trees
to form spars for the ships of the British Navy: in the upper harbour these were plentiful right to the water's
edge. The flax trade flourished briefly at this time for the same reason (New Zealand flax made good tough
rope) But squared and cut timber for building continued to be in demand in Australia and elsewhere
throughout the nineteenth century. Small individually owned mills dotted the harbour with varying success
until the 1880's, when the giant Melbourne-based Kauri Timber Company swept in with new technology and
a firm financial base. They bought up existing mills and established new ones at Waimamaku and Koutu, in
the latter creating a township with school, store and housing out of a quiet little peninsula. Within thirty
years the hills were stripped of most usable timber and little but scrub and bare stumps remained,
bordering a harbour which had lost its pristine clarity through the dumping of sawdust and the beginnings
of soil erosion. With the timber dwindling the Kauri Timber Company moved on, closing most of its large
mills and leaving a population searching for new employment.
ASSISTED SETTLEMENTS
During the slump of the 1880's, when unemployment in the towns was high, a government practice of
buying up tracts of unused land for assisted settlement hastened this denudement. Families were leased
fifty acre blocks cheaply in return for breaking it in, in many cases being supplied with fruit-trees to plant
each year, with the hope that they would eventually supply the city markets with reasonably priced
produce. Six of these settlements were in the Hokianga region. Given the isolation that still has its effect
on finding markets, the idea was a pipe-dream: Of those six settlements, only one (Waimamaku) survived
to celebrate its centennial in 1988. Even before they arrived its settlers had formed themselves into a
homogeneous organisation, and they had unfailing support from the adjacent Maori community. Early on,
they also had the foresight to abandon fruit-growing in favour of dairy farming, establishing a co-operative
cheese factory in 1903, only fifteen years into the existence of the settlement.
Some settlements, less cohesive at the beginning and with back-breaking, unforgiving land to work, barely
got off the ground. Finances were always short and numbers of men left their farms to earn money on the
adjacent gum-fields, or by stone-breaking for road construction. In others, after a short trial many families
returned to the more familiar life of the towns and their 50 acre blocks were taken over or absorbed into
other properties.
But every settlement had its school central to the community and though the number of children went up
and down the school building was put to many and varied uses – church services, socials, choir-practice,
library, political meetings, electoral booth…
COUNTY COUNCIL ESTABLISHMENT
In 1876 the first Local Government Act was passed and County boundaries proclaimed throughout New
Zealand. Hokianga was to have two ridings, Waihou and Waima, with seven councillors; the first elections
were to be held on Friday, 22 December 1876 with the first meeting in the Magistrates Court, Herds Point,
on Tuesday 9th January 1877. The speed at which it was pushed through took the settlers by surprise, but
not the Maori population. When the first results were announced, Hokianga had three Maori councillors,
two European and two half-and-half – an accurate representation of the population both then and now.
It was a ratio never achieved again.
As a side-effect, Herds Point, or Rawene as it was increasingly called, now had new status as the County
town which gave it a slight edge over the larger and more prosperous Kohukohu. Inter-town rivalry was
alive and well.
THE DOG TAX WAR
The first week of May, 1898, saw the culmination of a strongly-held sense of injustice on the part of Maori
against the imposition of a European-made regulation, the Dog Tax, upon them. Hitherto Maori
communities had not been generally subject to European taxes, but ten years earlier the Hokianga County
Council, desperate for funds and in an effort to control the increasing dog population with their
depredations on local farm stock, had legislated that the dog-tax of 2/6d per dog applied to all dog owners.
This followed the practice of other counties to raise finances. Posters in Maori and English were produced
and, after the local policeman had intimated that he could not afford the time, the collection of the tax was
put into the hands of a hired lay person. The people of Waima refused to pay. They were threatened with
arrest. Under the leadership of Mahurehure chief Hone Toia they stood firm and continued to refuse to
pay. After increasingly dire threats, such as banishment to ice-bound regions forever, they decided to
march upon the County headquarters in Rawene in a show of force to settle the matter in their own way.
Twenty-five years had passed since the worst of the Waikato wars, but reaction was immediate and
definite. The Government despatched a column of the Permanent Force, 120 strong, with two Nordenfeldt
field guns and two Maxims and the gun-boat Torch; The Glenelg made an extra trip to evacuate all women
and children from Rawene. The current Northern Maori MP, Hone Heke, left Parliament in session and
came post-haste north to join other elders and chiefs in defusing the situation. Within a day of his arrival
the Mahurehure leaders lay down their arms and surrendered; the whole episode was over in less than a
week. Not so for the Mahurehure. Their leaders were arrested, taken to Auckland for trial on the grounds
of treason, and imprisoned for a term in Mt Eden. Only one shot had been fired, and that was into the air
through excitement. Hone Heke lost his Parliamentary pay for the time he was absent. The Dog Tax
remained in force.
DAIRY-FARMING
As the forest retreated, dairy farming proved to be the way to go, given the high rainfall of the region and
the limited size of many cleared farms. Herds were small, families did the milking. In 1907, a co-operative
was formed to establish a dairy factory at Motukaraka, one of the assisted settlement areas. It was built on
the harbour, with its own wharf, and its catchment area ran from Mitimiti to Waimamaku in the west to
Otaua/Punakitere in the east, taking in all tributaries of the harbour in between. Waimamaku farmers, who
had their cheese factory already operating, had to choose - cheese or butter? Whole milk or cream only?
Big cans or small? Local or distant? Cream was collected by launch wherever possible, being sledged or
drayed from land bases. Collection was of necessity governed by tide-times, and launch drivers were
skilled in navigating into and up the correct tributaries at any time of the day or night. The launches -
named appropriately the Dairy Maid, the Butterfly etc. - were built to accommodate maximum cream-cans,
full or empty: empties being dropped off as full cans were taken on.
By about 1920 enterprising farmers were experimenting with milking-machines and also cream separators.
The extra technology did not always make life simpler; the first milking machines involved the milk being
pumped into large buckets which had to be watched and emptied at the right time. The separator with all
its intricate parts took more care and time to wash and scald. Dairying was still a full family affair, and
remained so as WW II took many of the men away.
Hokianga did not get electric power until the early 1950's; before that it was kerosene lamps and petrol
engine for the milking machine, or diesel generator shared between house and shed. Morning and
evening the countryside was filled with the throb of motors. The advent of electricity changed every
aspect of life, even though the line to the more remote places was of such low voltage that, for instance,
cooking could not start till the milking was finished.
With hindsight, these were the decades of prosperity - enough work, enough income, for all, and mostly
generated from within the community. But the two local dairy factories were facing demands to upgrade, to
tighten hygiene regulations, to install new plant…Waimamaku's cheese now had to be made from
pasteurised milk, changing its texture and taste (but not for the better). A merger was suggested, linking
the two with the larger Bay of Islands Dairy company.
In 1957, this was agreed to. Almost immediately, Motukaraka suppliers were notified that their cream would
now be taken by road to Moerewa, and Motukaraka would close - it was uneconomic, the launch collection
cost too much to run. To the whole community, this was a body blow. The launches had been a lifeline for
many small farmers around the harbour as their means of transport; even though roads were improving in
the north, the river was still the main road, and the dairy factory had been a friendly meeting-place. With
hindsight, again, this one action of closure is held to spell the end of Hokianga's prosperity. Waimamaku's
cheese-making limped on until 1972. Under local control, but monitored from the Bay of Islands Dairy
Company, it had difficulty keeping ahead of increasingly stringent standards of production. Its suppliers
were dwindling as farmers retired and the next generation looked for easier city jobs. So, regretfully, it was
closed, and Hokianga no longer had any industry it could call its own.
OPO THE DOLPHIN
The summer of 1955-56 will always be remembered as the summer of the dolphin - the few months when
the village of Opononi was invaded by crowds of holiday-makers come to see a young dolphin willing to
play with humans.
- Dolphins normally live closely with family groups
and no-one knows how Opo, a young female
bottle-nose dolphin, came to lose herself so
completely as to be living alone in the harbour.
She was never known to go out over the bar but
seemed content to stay close to human company,
particularly, at first, if that human was running an
outboard motor. Gradually she started to come
inshore to join humans as they swam, and to
everyone's joy she found she could take part in
their games and play even better than they
could. Given a ball, she shone: Her agility in the
water allowed her to keep it in motion
effortlessly. Fortunately her antics were caught
on film for everyone to see by two expert
photographers: one the artist Eric Lee Johnson
and was contracted to supply the NZ Herald with
photographs; the other, the veteran film-maker Rudall Hayward who was commissioned from the USA to
supply footage of the events.
One can only speculate what Opononi would be like now, had Opo lived longer. But after the few months of
that summer of 1956 she disappeared, and a day or two later was found dead, stranded in rocks a little way
up the harbour. There was no autopsy, so what caused her death will never be known. The whole
community mourned for her. She was buried in front of Opononi's newly built RSA Hall, close by the stretch
of harbour she played in and knew best. Later, a "Boy on a dolphin" statue by Russell Clark was erected
in her memory close by.
THE 'HIPPIE' ERA
With empty farms being sold for a song, the way was open for a further migration: Alternative lifestylers in
search of a truly alternative lifestyle away from the city. Hokianga had much to offer in this way and in
many parts of the region groups of young people moved in - many of them well educated, creative and
idealistic. Some moved into empty houses, others built their own using materials that came to hand. Some
were fair-weather trialists, but others were stayers, determined to live out the difficulties and create a better
life for themselves and their families.
Relations were often uneasy between the newcomers and the old established settlers. The County
Council, the Medical Officer of Health and the Police each had their concerns about the possible effects
that the newcomers' lifestyle might have on the community at large. Older farmers could not comprehend
why anyone should want to return to such pioneering ways as earth floors and raupo roofing, and were sad
to see fields which had once been cleared by backbreaking toil, reverting to scrub and bush. On the
whole, though, toleration and co-operation won through; the children went to school, their parents took part
in community doings, a new dimension enlivened what had been a depressed community.
INTO THE 21ST CENTURY
Nation-wide changes to the social structure have not helped Hokianga. No bank operates in the area, no
post shops (though postal agencies in the local stores carry out the day-to-day postal business) and lack
of current employment opportunities means that most young persons are forced to leave the area. There
is little spare money for anything but the basics of living and new businesses find it hard to stay afloat.
Tourism, the white hope of many areas of Northland, varies according to the state of the dollar.
On the other hand, it is one of the most beautiful and relatively unspoilt parts of New Zealand: its low
population means uncluttered beaches and room to move; the climate is mild at all times of the year and
the gardens grow well. The people are an amalgam of Maori / pakeha, old and young, academic and
practical, way-out and conservative, in which everyone generally respects each other's ways. A small
piece of Paradise? Some think so.
| "Boy on a Dolphin" by Rusell Clark, erected at Opononi - photo Ken Baker |
| The heads and difficult entrance to the Hokianga river on a calm day - photo Ken Baker |