The sacred island
Lake Taupo¯’s only island is a place of mystery and spiritual significance, something the Department of Conservation’s Candace Graham would like to keep that way, writes David Herkt.
Most New Zealanders will travel the stretch of State Highway 1 between Taupo¯ and Tu¯rangi some time in their lives.
On one side, a high cliff often hugs the skyline as the road moves through small holiday townships and Ma¯ori marae. The largest lake in Australasia stretches out from the other.
At the highway’s northern end, there is the jostling signage of Taupo¯’s lakefront hotels and motels.
At the southern terminus, Tu¯rangi is a mix of raffish servicestyles and up-market fishing lodges. The road crosses historic Nga¯ti Tu¯wharetoa lands, and reveals the spectacular geology of the region.
There are tantalising glimpses of the snows of Tongariro, Ruapehu, and Nga¯uruhoe.
Lake Taupo¯’s only island, Motutaiko, lies mysteriously just offshore. It is the special responsibility of Candace Graham, who works as a community ranger for the Department of Conservation.
Of Nga¯ti Tu¯wharetoa descent, she was raised in Waitetoko, halfway between Taupo¯ and Tu¯rangi.
Motutaiko is a volcanic rhyolitic dome, abruptly rising up more than 100 metres vertically from the lake floor. Now under DOC protection, visitors are no longer permitted in order to protect its unique species and history.
‘‘It is a wa¯hi tapu, a sacred place, and the reason for that is because it is the final resting place of some of my tı¯puna, or ancestors,’’ Graham says.
‘‘It was also an island refuge at some point for people in Motutere if they were under threat from an intruding war party, for both women and children ... There are still some features from their time, which are still present and undisturbed.’’
Motutaiko is an urupa¯ or cemetery. ‘‘Bodies were placed on the island and they weren’t buried, they were placed in caves,’’ Graham says.
‘‘But over time they were being disturbed and their bones were being taken, and the items they were buried with were also being taken. We have lost quite a few.
‘‘In 2003, a decision was made to close the island and leave them at rest to prevent them from being disturbed. Some caves were closed. You can’t even see where they are any more.’’
The small island is also important for its unique species, ranging from mistletoe to skinks and snails, but they have recently come under threat from Norway rats.
‘‘Up until 2018, when we discovered rats on the island, it had been pest-free. It is just far away enough from the mainland that we believe that rats couldn’t have swum there. They pose a very real risk to the Wainuia snails and the skink. Rats may also be after the calcium in the bones of the tı¯puna – so it is a double threat.
‘‘I don’t think these species would have had a chance if DOC had not offered to lead this project – and getting those rats off the island,’’ Graham says. ‘‘It is a really good collaborative effort.
‘‘Collectively we all need to be advocating for the importance of the island and just staying off it – but you are more than welcome to come up and admire it from your boat.’’
For Graham, Motutaiko also represents something profound.
‘‘You feel the soul of the place, so it is a highly, highly spiritual experience for me.
‘‘From being on the water and being surrounded by waves – when you are on boat or kayak, and you come up to the island – its presence is quite unnerving. If you look at it from the shore, it doesn’t look like a huge place, but when you get right up to it, it is quite humbling.
‘‘There is always a process I go through culturally to protect myself, and my team-mates, and the place, and my tı¯puna. We always say a karakia – and you can usually always feel settled once that has been done. For me, it is huge recognising those feelings as I go through that process.’’
Occupying the very heart of Aotearoa, the whole Taupo¯ landscape was created by an ancient, but still active supervolcano. Its crater, now filled
with water, forms the lake.
‘‘We believe the last eruption happened in the austral late summer or early autumn of 232AD, give or take five years,’’ says Professor Alan Hogg, the director of Waikato University’s Radiocarbon Dating Laboratory. His team’s research, year-dating trees felled by the violence of the final volcanic event, has been a revelation and settled a very long debate.
The time of the Hatepe eruption had originally been set at around 181AD. This date is still repeated erroneously on innumerable Taupo¯ tourist websites and in brochures.
It had been linked to historic
records of red sunsets and other atmospheric phenomena observed by the Chinese and Romans. However, the work of Hogg and his colleagues pinpointed it with real accuracy for the first time.
The year was determined by the radiocarbon dating of the tree ring sequences of buried forests, including those at Pureora. The late-March/early-April season was indicated by fruits and seeds preserved beneath the ash falls. Even the very time of day was evidenced by insect assemblages in the preserved trees – so the huge climactic eruption probably occurred in the late afternoon.
Hogg’s colleague, Professor David Lowe, has produced a spectacular summary of this Hatepe eruption.
Over time, there had been a series of gradually increasingly powerful volcanic incidents until a vent in the vicinity of the Horomatangi Reefs (now deep under eastern Lake Taupo¯) suddenly collapsed in on itself.
The resulting eruption column on that late summer day in 232AD may have shot up 55 kilometres into the stratosphere. Around 120 cubic kilometres of material was ejected
in total, a quarter of that in a very few minutes.
But even more devastatingly, a flow of hot gas and lava moved away from the eruption centre at speeds up to 900 kilometres an hour to blanket the central North Island in 10 to 15 minutes. It smoothed out valleys, mantled ridges, blocked rivers and streams, and destroyed all life from Waiouru to Rotorua under metres of material.
Only Mt Ruapehu was high enough to divert the onrush of the super-heated wave.
Even this wasn’t the end. The lake refilled over time, but its outflow was blocked. Waters banked up more than 30m above present levels.
‘‘The gigantic post eruption flood,’’ says Hogg, ‘‘resulted from collapse of a dam on the Waikato river outlet built by eruptive material.’’
It was an instantaneous breach, 20 to 30 years after the eruption. Water levels overtopped and broke a natural barrier of pumice and other material. A huge wave containing around 20 cubic kilometres of water surged down river in one abrupt release.
‘‘This flood event has been estimated to have been one of the largest in the world,’’ Hogg says. The evidence can still be seen in landforms as far as 232km down the Waikato.
The modern road between Taupo¯ and Tu¯rangi follows the line of the southern volcanic crater rim wall. Now flanked by holiday homes and businesses, this stretch of black tarseal gives travellers access to the shore and its recreational activities – and what has become the unique Taupo¯ tourist experience.
‘‘It’s all about keeping it real,’’ says Bron Bell of Waitahanui Lodge, describing the accommodation and access that they are determined to offer their motel guests. ‘‘If you want the Ritz, go to town.’’
Just a few hundred metres south of the Waitahanui Stream, where anglers cast and recast their lines, the motel that Bell and her husband Anthony manage is unique.
With a distinctive mid-20th century New Zealand holiday architecture and its enviable shoreside location, Bell describes people who rebook a year in advance.
Two of the five self-contained cottages are thought to be the closest available rental rooms to the lake itself. There is nowhere else in Taupo¯ where a guest can see and hear the lap of waves less than 3m away – without getting out of bed.
‘‘They are authentic Kiwiana baches – with a modern twist,’’ Bell adds. The neatly painted pale white-and-blue cottages could easily illustrate a book on distinctive New Zealand holiday rental accommodation. While the Bells see continual improvements as being a necessity, the maintenance of the lodge’s unique character is essential.
Waitahanui Lodge was founded in 1932, and catered to many famous trout fishermen.
The American author of Western novels, Zane Grey, had publicised Taupo¯ as a trout fisherman’s paradise with his 1926 book, An Angler’s El Dorado.
Many of the lodge’s guests in the 1930s and 1940s were drawn by his stories of limitless catches and battling large fish in the nearby pools on the Waitahanui Stream.
The lodge moved location a few hundred metres in 1955 and now, facing north, the present buildings offer premier views, and a range of facilities from trout smokers to a small shop selling trout flies and espresso coffee. For Bell, there is another bonus – ‘‘We’ve got the most incredible sunsets you’ll ever see.’’
Perhaps no city or region truly exists until it has been explored in fiction, like James Joyce’s Dublin in his book, Ulysses. Tina Shaw’s The Children’s Pond, is the first New Zealand novel to be set in Tu¯rangi’s motels, shopping centre and the famous trout-pools of the near-by Tongariro River.
Shaw and her husband, Bruce, formerly lived in Auckland, often travelling down to Tu¯rangi to flyfish. Then they made the decision to move to Taupo¯ permanently. For Shaw, Tu¯rangi is not simply a stage-setting.
‘‘We often fished the Tongariro River. It is just gorgeous – it is so beautiful. And I was taken by the image of the divided town – you’ve got two sides to the town. You’ve got the river and quite a lot of wealth on one side of the highway and on the other side of the highway you’ve got this old hydro town, which has got a few issues. ‘‘
‘‘It seemed to me to be a divided location and for a fiction writer it is interesting to explore.’’
The Children’s Pond was the result. At times, it is a novel of nailbiting suspense and revelation, as the layers are gradually stripped away from the characters’ lives and their interactions. It also reveals an archetypal New Zealand location in a new light. ‘‘Really, it is about a woman who moves from Auckland to Tu¯rangi to be near her son who is in Rangipo Prison. Through circumstances, she is forced to confront her past. It is a crime story – a psychological crime story.’’
As could be expected, fly fishing plays a part in The Children’s Pond, but so does the state highway and the decor of Tu¯rangi’s motels. Shaw’s fictional The Lodge is a thin-walled strictly temporary construction. It has obligatory local references in its beige and mustard de´cor – and the paintings of river scenes and trout. Its cottages are named after fishing flies.
‘‘I think I’m really proud of capturing that location. I feel I pulled off that thing where you use a location and its character... I also really feel the river has got a bit of a presence in that novel.’’
The road between Taupo¯ and Tu¯rangi is often travelled, no matter the season, but when Covid19 has closed New Zealand’s borders, it will be more travelled than ever before.
There will always be unseen things, and others to be discovered. There is always more beneath the surface.