Tracing the first footsteps in New Zealand’s heavenly north

From smooth to shabby chic to rakishly dishevelled: such is the cinematic transformation unravelling before me on the 74-kilometre journey from the Bay of Islands to Hokianga Harbour.

The manicured paddocks of Kerikeri have given way to neighbours fringed with unruly tussocks and circled by moody ranges and forests of the deepest green. This farmland, it seems, is woolly garbed against the impending wilderness and the oncoming storm.

The shores and dunes of Hokianga Harbour.

Brooding clouds notwithstanding, the weather is temperate here in New Zealand’s “winterless north”. Take no mind of the stupendous collision of Tasman Sea and Atlantic Ocean 140 kilometres north at the mainland’s northernmost tip, from which the souls of all Maori are said to depart. Even the promontory up there – shaped like a seahorse’s snout and culminating at Cape Reinga – is mild as summer approaches.

Further south, as I pull into Rawene, sunlight skims the Hokianga River and a breeze fluffs the bone-white dunes. Boats putter in the gulch beside me as I take a table on the deck at the Boatshed Cafe.

The Boatshed Cafe in Rawene, overlooking Hokianga Harbour.Credit: Northland NZ

My lunch could be drawn directly from these waters, and from the vineyards left in my wake at Kerikeri: a dozen kutai (mussels) on the shell, wallowing in creamy white wine sauce. These crustaceans emerge beyond the dunes at low tide, crusting the shore like shards of black glass; they’ve been harvested by Maori since their ancestor, Kupe, arrived here from Hawaiki (believed by some to be the Tahitian island of Rangiatea) almost 1000 years ago – an event that marked the start of Aotearoa’s human history.

“This area, the Hokianga in general, is where we say Kupe lived most of his life while he was here in Aotearoa New Zealand,” says Max Lloydd. “And quite significantly, this is where he left from, back to the island of Tahiti Rangiatea.”

We’re meeting close to the harbour mouth in Opononi, where Lloydd is operations manager at Manea Footprints of Kupe, a cultural experience developed by the Te Hua o Te Kawariki Trust. Three decades in the making, this multisensory spectacular invites visitors into Te Ao Maori – the Maori world – where they can walk in the great ancestor’s footsteps.

Following the first footprints.

“There’s so much knowledge stored here, and that was one of the visions – to have a place where we could preserve our stories, preserve our culture, and obviously share it,” Lloydd says.

The story evolves most poignantly out on those shifting dunes, where Kupe is said to have sacrificed one of his children. Here he also anointed two harbour guardians, Lloydd says.

“Niua stands on the slopes of the sand dunes, and Araiteuru sits on the other side of the harbour. It’s very special, very significant.”

Out on the headland at Arai te Uru Nature Reserve, I survey the scene presided over by those sentinels. To the west spills the Tasman Sea, undergirded by a sandbar that impedes entry to this harbour. Twenty-three ships were wrecked here, says a signboard, resulting in many lost lives.

“Your voices are one with the sound of lamenting, the western tides that pass by,” it goes on. “To you all: Haere mai, haere. We acknowledge you, farewell.”

The stunning kauri canopy.

The easterly view is more soothing: Hokianga River, which Kupe drifted along after crossing the treacherous ocean in a waka (canoe). It unspools placidly inland, a flow of turquoise water cupped by those sacred dunes.

From here, the road traces the coastline through fleecy farmland and a hurly-burly of trees. It sharpens into hairpin bends, disappears into warrens of subtropical foliage, slows reverentially at Waipoua Forest, where Maori cosmology is embodied in Tane Mahuta – New Zealand’s tallest tree. The 51.5 metre kauri began life as a seedling about 2000 years ago; here long before Kupe, its story and those that followed are retold during the Footprints of Waipoua tour.

“Essentially, it’s the physical representation of the deity of the forest and everything that lives in it,” Lloydd says. “It’s important to note that it’s not a building, it’s not a ruin or a relic. It’s a living and breathing entity that’s still providing life in terms of its seedlings and things like that. And in terms of our creation story, it plays a very important role. Tane Mahuta is known as the child who pushed his two parents of creation – our Mother Earth and our Sky father – apart, therefore leading in the world of light.”

Twilight in the forest.

And yes, Tane Mahuta has punched a mighty hole into the forest canopy. Though cloud plugs the sky, a watery shaft of light penetrates all the way to the boardwalk. A park ranger offers to take my photo, though it’s impossible to compress this towering specimen into a single frame. The world of light, she says, has given rise to miracles in the kauri’s canopy: greenhood orchids sprout on the gnarled bumps; two native trees – a rata and totara – grow high above the bedrock.

“The totara is estimated to be 100 years old,” she says. “But because of the limited nutrients and canopy [leaving] just enough light for it to sustain its life, it’s noted as a stunted or a bonsai totara.”

On the journey south, the raincloud unzips at last. Through the windscreen’s watery prisms I see a landscape spliced in abstracted colour: jade for the dripping forests, russet for the sodden grasses, unpolished pewter for the trace of mountains falling away to the east. In 1900, this landscape was a thicket of native forest; as settlers migrated north and logging began, the old growth thinned dramatically. Some of that kauri wood was used to build Waipoua Lodge’s historic homestead; but neighbouring land trusts are returning these tracts to their natural state, says Ann Sissons, co-owner of the lodge with Fiona Carter.

Historic homestead, Waipoua Lodge.

“In the time that we’ve been here, they have cleared a lot [of invasive species],” she says. “Already the trees are looking really good.”

Alas, the 120-year-old tree in the front garden – a non-native macrocarpa – was struck by lightning 30 years ago. Chains held her together before a recent storm dealt the death blow.

“I know she’s a beautiful woman because she was so gentle,” Sissons says. “After she landed – you see, she has barely penetrated the earth. As heavy as she is, she just majestically went whee….”

Now this grand old dame warms the hearth.

“We’ve got years of firewood!” Sissons says.

Fire is a theme at dinnertime, where the prawns are seared – not over the macrocarpa’s flames, but in the kitchen, where Carter makes culinary magic. The local lamb is crusted with herbs, the sticky date pudding drizzled with warm toffee. It’s a short stroll to my suite – the Tack Room, positioned between the Wool Shed and the Calf Pen in the original outhouse buildings. Rain is still falling. It blesses the felled macrocarpa, satiates the sapling kauris and the high-born totaras. It summons Kupe, whose spirit still roams this heavenly realm.

The details

Visit
Tickets for the Manea Footsteps of Kupe experience are $60 for adults and $11 for children. See maneafootprints.co.nz
Footprints of Waipoua tours $100 for adults, $40 for children. See footprintswaipoua.co.nz

Stay
Suites at Waipoura Lodge from $500 a night. See waipoualodge.co.nz

Fly + drive
Air New Zealand flies to Auckland from Sydney and Melbourne, with onward connections to Bay of Islands (Kerikeri). See airnewzealand.com.au
Car hire is available at the Bay of Islands Airport. See hertz.co.nz

The writer was a guest of Tourism New Zealand. See newzealand.com