Linger longer, like the warrior chief
FOR Ross Scott, the sacred place where a legendary Ma¯ ori explorer sat has more meaning to him than we will ever know.
The site where the mourning Tamatea-po¯ kaiwhenua Ure Haea sat hundreds of years ago in southern Hawke’s Bay can be found on private land belonging to Ross Scott and his wife Polly. The name has gained international fascination as the longest in the world.
Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenuakitanatahu – The hill where Tamatea sat, the chief of great physical stature and renown, playing on his flute in memory of his loved one.
Hawke’s Bay Tourism’s Anna (Molly) Baldwin and I follow the leafy green route from the rural town of Waipukurau towards the wild coastal settlement of Po¯ rangahau to see the place itself.
Scott and other iwi want people to learn who Tamatea was and how he can still inspire people today.
We pull off to a wide sign with 85 letters on it. There it is. The longest place name in the world.
‘‘Can you say it easily?’’ I ask Scott.
‘‘Like the back of my hand, girl, I can say it inside out if you like,’’ and he does.
Tamatea was an admired chief, explorer and warrior and while passing through Po¯ rangahau on his travels, he encountered Nga¯ ti Hine, but had to battle to get past.
That battle became known as Matanui and he lost his brother as a result The body was never returned.
A grieving Tamatea was so distraught by the loss he stayed on the hill and each morning played on his ko¯ auau.
Scott’s first cousin, Henare Kina, says there are other stories behind ki-tana-tahu – ‘‘someone special’’.
‘‘Some say he played for his brother, some say it’s for the living people so he can be remembered. There’s definitely been fights about that part of it,’’ he says.
A pou, destined for the hill, lies on deflated tyres waiting to be taken up the rugged track to Tamatea’s spot.
The wood is to¯ tara and comes from a tree swept down Pohangina Valley in Manawatu¯ during a major flood.
‘‘The flooding blew out a bridge there and it was swept down the river into the valley and dug into the bank,’’ Scott says.
‘‘Then all these ma¯ tai and to¯ tara also got washed in as well. A while later the council wanted them all out so they sent me to pull the logs out of there. The valley was about a mile wide and it was full of these trees. They looked like beached whales.
‘‘They ended up giving us some of the wood and that’s where this guy comes from,’’ he says, pointing at the pou.
‘‘This is the last summer he’ll spend in here before we take him up.’’
Scott plans to put the pou on a swivel bracket rather than a pole so tourists can get a good photo while they visit.
It’s evident many don’t know they can visit the hill. Trip Advisor reviews show many people saw the sign on the roadside, but went no further.
‘‘We’re trying to market it to more to people.
‘‘People go as far as just looking at the name and that’s it,’’ Kina says.
The Scotts are now working with Hawke’s Bay Tourism to draw more people to the sacred site, to create jobs for local Ma¯ ori and also to help youth to learn about their tikanga.
‘‘This isn’t a fantasy, this was a real person. If he was still alive today I would fight and die for this person. I’m fighting for him now,’’ Scott says.
‘‘Tamatea could see the future, he was a politician if you like.’’
I make several attempts to pronounce the name and fail.
‘‘I’ll go home and practice,’’ I say to Scott.
‘‘Just give it a go girl. That’s all we ask of anyone, just give it a try.’’