John McCrone

One ru¯nanga proposed it, the other blocked it. Why a canal scheme to clean up two lakes disappeared from public sight. reports.

At first blush, it doesn’t seem a good look for the Ma¯ ori co-governance approach to our damaged waterways. Te Waihora, or Lake Ellesmere, ought to be Canterbury’s ecological jewel – an internationally-ranked destination rather than the muddy puddle that folk skirt on their dash towards the delights of Akaroa and Banks Peninsula.

In 2010, enough people agreed on a canal and weir scheme – a new controlled method of keeping the lake open to the ocean – as winner in a Canterbury ‘‘big ideas’’ competition.

The V5 contest, promoted by the Chamber of Commerce, Canterbury University and Christchurch City Council, was looking for projects to potentially contribute $1 billion to the regional economy over 20 years.

Te Ao Hou, as the canal project was dubbed, was one of the four selected.

It was a big deal. Nga¯ i Tahu’s then kaiwhakahaere (chairman), Sir Mark Solomon, accepted the prize. Jokes were made about the price of whitebait collapsing with what Te Waihora would become.

But then, mysteriously, the idea vanished.

Well, half the scheme has happened. Te Ao Hou grew out of the smaller $1 million canal project proposed by Nga¯ i Tahu’s Wairewa ru¯ nanga – its Little River-based hapu¯ or sub-tribe – to deal with the nutrient pollution of neighbouring Lake Forsyth, or Te Roto o Wairewa.

That outlet has been functioning for some years with huge improvements to water quality.

Environment Canterbury (ECan) chairman Steve Lowndes, a 20-year resident of Birdlings Flat, says he gets out in his dingy to check on how the returning stands of healthy lake weed are winning the battle against the soupy green algae in Wairewa.

‘‘You can look right down into the water and see to where the macrophytes bed in the bottom of the lake. The clarity is amazing.’’

Lowndes says the last step for the Wairewa side of the project – building a small road bridge across the canal – will be complete in a matter of weeks.

However, the 4km canal meant to hook up Waihora to the same ocean opening, creating a lush new estuary area at Birdlings Flat where the waters would meet, hasn’t even got as far as the engineering feasibility study that was part of the V5 prize.

Why not? Is it that tribal rivalries have been allowed to trump sensible decision-making, as some insiders to the iwi politics are grumbling?

It is being pointed out that the Te Ao Hou project would have brought great mana to the Wairewa ru¯ nanga’s side of the lake.

Both lakes would not only drain at the same point. Birdlings Flat would also become the place that enjoyed the concentrated runs of tuna, pa¯ tiki and inanga – or eel, flounder and whitebait.

However, this would spell an equal loss of mana for the Te Taumutu ru¯ nanga that occupies the southern shore of Waihora, 25km down the Kaitorete Spit at Fishermans Point, where the traditional lake opening has always been.

In Ma¯ ori times, when Waihora was still an open lagoon, Taumutu was the important pa¯ site, guarding the entrance to this ‘‘food basket’’.

Then, as the pounding surf and shingle banks gradually closed Waihora, Taumutu took over with regular controlled openings to keep the lake refreshed by the sea.

Waihora was maintained several metres higher, close to the brim. So all it took was to scrape some trenches with a flax stalk.

A trickle would become a flood. The weight of the water would wash out a house-sized section of Kaitorete Spit for a few days, until a southerly blow sealed it again.

For generations, the management of Waihora’s ocean outfall has been central to Taumutu’s identity.

So, after the great public fuss of the competition win – Te Ao Hou as the clever project to clean up two lakes in one go, not to mention creating a 4km canal that could be used as a rowing venue – tribal politics took over.

Te Waihora’s case is special because, as Nga¯ i Tahu’s Treaty settlement recognised, neither New Zealand’s fifth largest lake, nor its kai, were ever sold to to Pa¯ keha¯ . It did not form part of Canterbury’s 1848 Kemp Purchase.

The lake bed was formally returned to the tribe in 1998. It also became New Zealand’s first voluntary co-governance arrangement under the Resource Management Act (RMA) – a flagship of the new biculturalism.

So when it came to Te Ao Hou, ECan – as the regional authority – had to share any decision-making with the Te Waihora Management Board, a newly formed body representing the six Christchurch and Banks Peninsula ru¯ nanga with connections to the lake.

And, while Wairewa and other ru¯ nanga had single votes around this table, Taumutu – reflecting its position – had three.

Taumutu soon expressed the view that Te Ao Hou was so much not a starter as far as it was concerned, it didn’t even need to proceed to the full engineering study that Canterbury University had offered. And that has been pretty much that.

Wairewa ru¯ nanga chairman Rei Simon puts a diplomatic face on it.

Simon says the way the V5 competition happened – judged by the likes of former prime minister Ruth Richardson, dropped on Taumutu with much civic fanfare but no consultation – would have put anyone’s nose out of joint.

‘‘Quite bluntly, the ru¯ nangas with the kaitiaki over the big lake were never involved with this scheme, never consulted in its infancy. And therefore they didn’t agree it should happen. It never had universal approval.’’