Why don’t we have healthier wai?
OPINION: Summer is over but memories persist. Manu heroes and mud pies, picnics and paddling, the cool water-holes of my neighbourhood in Pareraho (Kelson and Belmont) echoed with squeals of delight from adults and children alike.
Our local streams appear safe for swimming, but we’re not sure how safe and healthy they really are. We sometimes spot leaking sewer pipes, and pollution from paint, cement, sediment and rubbish. Litter we can collect; the others are not so simple. So locals are teaming up tomonitor the health of our wai.
We want to share what we learn, and kick-start action to restore the mana of Pareraho streams. Recently I had the privilege to serve on Te Whaitua Te Whanganui-a-Tara, awater planning committee with leaders frommana whenua, councils and the community.
We were tasked with examining the health of waterways, nutting out the problems and devising a path to fix them. I contributed my community experience, and I learnt much, including these three things.
First, it’s clear that here in the Hutt we are incredibly blessed. We have stunning river systems – Te Awakairangi, Wainuiomata, Orongorongo, tenei temihi māhaki ki a koutou.
Plus diverse streams, remnant wetlands, precious aquifers, taonga lakes, and a glorious harbour. Our wai isn’t just fun for swimming, fishing and admiring – we depend on it for drinking, garden-watering and carrying away our waste.
The Hutt is scarily powerful in flood, but as much as we have sought to tame her to protect us, she still rules our valley and shapes our city. Wai has mana and deserves our respect.
Second, I learnt that water tells our stories. My ancestors, the Bryces, settled right beside the river in 1840 and were promptly flooded out.
My tupuna Duthie – mayor, harbourmaster and Gear Meat Company director – would access his Naenae mansion (Balgownie) by punt up the Waiwhetū Stream.
And my mother remembers the childhood joy of swimming at Petone beach – a long walk from Waiwhetū for hermumand six young siblings (during the 1940s polio epidemic when children were not allowed on buses).
Just like Mum, my children will forever remember their times in the water. Yet my story is just a droplet in the Hutt’s wai story. Collectively, our waters hold our stories, old and new, and shape our identity today as Hutt citizens.
Third, I learnt how we citizens have a job to do. Mana whenua are charting the path for restoring te mana o tewai, and councils are kicking into action to improve infrastructure and planning rules.
They need us to support these efforts, politically and at home.
We can learn how much water we use each day, check our wastewater is not ending up in a local stream, and report pollution whenwe see it.
We can also muck-in with community efforts tomonitor and restore wai.
Water warriors like Rōpū
Tiaki (Parangarahu Lakes), Friends of Waiwhetū Stream, and Korokoro Environment Group are making a difference – kia kaha e toamā, ahakoa he iti, he pounamu – and you can get involved in your local community.
Taking my kids swimming at Taitā Rock this summer was fun, but the river was clearly not healthy. Too warm, too sluggish, too much algae, too few trees.
At times of heavy rain, raw sewage flushes through there.
Back in Pareraho today, a small stream is running milky today and I’m not sure why. We all have work to do.