Whale Song project a vision
We have all read stories in the news media about tenancy disasters. In some cases the landlord is reported to be at fault. In others the tenant is said to have failed in their obligations. In all cases there has been a breakdown of the relationship.
The business of residential letting is one that affects almost all of us at some stage of our lives. It’s a simple business, but often it is not easy. It involves a contract between tenant and landlord. This Tenancy Agreement spells out the responsibilities and rights of both parties, according to rules prescribed by the Residential Tenancies Act. All we have to do is abide by the commitment that we have each made, and everything is fine. …Or so we hope. Unfortunately, such contracts involve people, and life “happens” to people. Complications arise – family, employment, relationship, personalities, money. These can all influence the way that a landlord and a tenant behave towards each other.
In most cases a tenancy endures without any major issues. Goodwill and adherence to the contract can overcome hiccups as they arise. But prior to the start of a tenancy both parties should have done their homework. For a tenant, viewing the property and checking its presentation will give a good insight into the landlord’s habits. Similarly, checking a tenant’s past record and references will indicate their suitability for a landlord. There is no substitute for reference checking at the start. Both parties can then cope better with life as it happens.
I had just started as a journo with the Ka¯ piti Observer not long before March 1996 when editor Richard Wood barked his orders.
Three sperm whales had beached along Paeka¯ ka¯ riki. I had never seen a whale before and this was to be a memory etched in my consciousness forever.
There she was. A massive 35-tonne sperm whale, one of the most powerful of the ocean’s creatures, totally helpless on the hard rocks lining The Parade. A crowd had gathered. It was still alive. Its breathing vent registering the slow belaboured bellowing blubber below. The sight was indescribable.
Adults and children were crying as I tried to make sense of what was happening. Then it hit me. A sadness, but of a depth I had never known. I had been to funerals of friends and relatives. The deepest sense of loss, when I was 15 years old, was when the family lost our 5-year-old brother after a long sickness. But this was something else. It was a sadness that was very old . . . an ancient sadness beyond my years of life. A majestic creature dying on dry land out of the depth of its evolutionary lineage and power. It was a deep reminder that there are other greater and older consciousness of life beyond our myopic snapshot of time.
I remember the two women, Tungia Baker and Ramiri Stewart who negotiated the Ma¯ ori protocols with DoC, GWRC and KCDC to establish the traditional right of harvesting the whale teeth and bones, and the blubber oil. Ma¯ ori did not traditionally hunt whales. As ancient explorers of the ocean, whales were given chiefly status and seen as guides and protectors. Ma¯ ori lore told of chiefs riding whales. Beached whales were understood as gifts of food, tools and ornaments from the sea god Tangaroa. It was the advent of colonialism and the Industrial Revolution’s demand for whale oil to lubricate its machines that saw Ma¯ ori increasingly become the labour force on whaling ships. And, one assumes, the resulting corruption of the traditional sustainable relationship between Ma¯ ori culture and whales.
Ka¯ piti Island had a whaling station and the mainland a population of whalers to support this terrible slaughter of whales that decimated whale numbers. Ramari recalled old stories when the mating season of sperm whales offshore saw whale mating sounds reverberate and echo off the hills of Ka¯ piti. All that was destroyed by the whaling industry.
In our current global reality where the neo-liberal experiment has polluted the land, river and ocean environments we must seize every opportunity to promote ideas that can change our thinking. The Whale Song Project has the potential to do this in Ka¯ piti. Seven life-sized family pod of sculptured whales on open land in the middle of Paraparaumu’s CBD. Sitting on a lake cleverly engineered to also provide joint stormwater solutions for the development plans of the three biggest landowners. A lake fed by a regenerated and restored Wharemauku Stream. Connecting and anchoring this Ka¯ piti storytelling is an urban marae educational and conference centre with its ahi kaa (fires) warmed by the local hapu.
It is a vision. For the first time in its history, Paraparumu would have a community heart that celebrates and commiserates on its history, its ecology and its entrepreneurship.
Research photos of the whale population that still frequent the waters off Ka¯ piti have identified two that have also showed up 2400km away in the waters of Tonga. These two identified whales should be adopted as Ka¯ piti’s ecoambassadors to our Pacific neighbours in Tonga. A whale song message that will resonate in a world where frequently we witness pictures of dead whales with their stomachs full of plastic debris. A world where climate change and sea-level rise are a threat to the very existence of our Pacific Island nations.
The Whale Song Project is a an opportunity for Kapiti to seize. Today’s launching of the project at Coastlands is the beginning of this journey to socialise this vision. Pick up an oar and join the waka.
Upcoming day trips include:
• ANZAC-themed Wellington
• Surprise in South Wairarapa
• Wildlife rehab in Manawatu
Something for everyone
You’ll be well looked after by a friendly, attentive guide.
Bookings are essential: 04 478 6033