The earliest traditions associated with human occupation of the South Island refer to Rakaihautu, the captain of the Uruao waka, which brought the Waitaha tribe to New Zealand.
Rakaihautu beached his waka at Whakatu (Nelson) and divided the new arrivals into two groups, with his son Rakihouia taking one party south along the coastline and Rakaihautu taking another south by an inland route. On his inland journey, Rakaihautu used his ko named Tuhiraki, to carve out the major lakes and subsequent waterways of Te Wai Pounamu . The earliest people of the South Island are most commonly known as Waitaha. There are also important tribal histories and traditions relating to the Kahui-tipua, Hawea and Rapuwai peoples that are closely connected with the Otago region. As described in WAI 27 The Ngai Tahu Report:
“Waitaha were both a people and a collection of peoples. The name refers to all those who were there prior to the Ngati Mamoe and Ngai Tahu migrations. Known by European scholars as Moa Hunters, the culture associated with the hunting of the moa had already gone with the passing of these flightless birds when Ngai Tahu first crossed Cook Strait.”
The next wave of migration was undertaken by the descendants of Whatu Mamoe, who came down from Te Tai Rawhiti (the North Island's east coast) to settle in the south. These descendants came to be known as Kati Mamoe and through inter-marriage and conquest they merged with the resident Waitaha.
The origins of Kai Tahu also have their genesis in Te Tai Rawhiti. Tahu Potiki, the eponymous ancestor of Kai Tahu, descended from the Ngati Porou tupuna, Paikea. The descendants of Tahu Potiki formed Ngai Tuhaitara and Ngati Kuri, and moved south to Wellington. They then continued their migration to Te Wai Pounamu. Warfare as well as political and personal alliances saw Kai Tahu whakapapa fused with Kati Mamoe and Waitaha by the early 1800s.
Both iwi history and archaeological evidence show Maori occupation in the Otago region over an extended period, with the inhabitants utilising a wide variety of natural resources from the diverse environment. Archaeological evidence supports the date of earliest settlement around the 12th century.
Today, Kai Tahu manawhenua is recognised over a large part of Te Wai Pounamu. Kati Mamoe and Waitaha whakapapa and shared occupation are always acknowledged. Tupuna such as Waitai, Tukiauau, Whaka-taka-newha, Rakiiamoa, Tarewai, Maru, Te Aparangi, Taoka, Moki II, Kapo, Te Wera, Tu Wiri Roa, Taikawa, and Te Hautapanuiotu are among Kati Mamoe and Kai Tahu tupuna whose feats and memories are embedded in the landscape, bays, tides and whakapapa of Otago. The hapu Kai Te Pahi, Kati Moki, and Kati Taoka still maintain their presence and responsibility as kaitiaki in this region.
Historically, Kai Tahu used the tauraka waka when they visited the head of the Otakou harbour as either the gateway to the route to Kaikarai (Green Island) or when off on other mahinga kai expeditions. The soft slope of the foreshore and the tidal flats in the upper harbour where the Toitu entered the sea was bisected by a prominent hill (called Bell Hill by colonists), the foot of which lay at the very edge of the high water mark. Prior to channelisation, culverting and reclamation work in the late 1840’s, the main stem of the Toitu stream emerged in the western hillside above the harbour, meandered its way down the hill, took a sharpish turn around the base of the large hill at its southern point, and entered the sea at the top of what is now known as Water Street.
The upper Otakou harbour was surrounded by heavy bush. There was a swamp to the southwest of the tauraka waka, with a dense population of birds, tuna and other resources utilised by tangata whenua. A testimony to the numerous generations of travellers who had traversed the hills and the tangled bush was that when the colonists arrived, the tracks were narrow but well defined and several inches deep.
The terrestrial and avian resources in the bush, the shelter in the lee of the hill as well as a good supply of fresh running water provided sufficient reasons to utilise the landing site at Toitu although kaik (kainga) are recalled as only existing intermittently in the area. While not as densely populated as the North Island, numerous kaik in the Otakou region still hosted a good number of Waitaha, Kati Mamoe and later Kai Tahu peoples. Various bays and beaches around the Otago Heads supported several hundred people with kaik in Karitane, Waikouaiti and Clutha hosting a similar number. Pa kainga on the Otago coast included Mapoutahi (Purakaunui), Pukekura (Taiaroa Head), Koputai, Huriawa and Moturata (Taieri Island). Whareakeake, one of several pounamu manufacturing sites, attested to another facet of lifestyle for the artisans of the iwi.
The potato had been introduced into the region by 1809, and plantations were located around the hills and valleys such as a large potato mara kai growing on the hillside above Waiparapara (opposite of the Otago Harbour to the Peninsula land), and another just north of Moeraki.
Kai Tahu also bred a significant number of pigs and transported them back and forth to clear the mara once harvesting was undertaken. No permanent kaik were situated at the mouth of the Toitu, simply because there was no need for it.
As noted by Goodall and Griffiths, the early 1830’s resident population at Pukekura was assessed at around 2,000 people by one early Pakeha resident in 1843. While the population numbers are still debated by academics and historians, there is no argument that through epidemics and intertribal warfare, the numbers of Kai Tahu living in the region had dwindled considerably by the time the Treaty of Waitangi was signed at Koputai (Port Chalmers) on 30th June 1840.
Otakou sale
In May 1844, when Frederick Tuckett arrived in Otakou, he found approximately 20 Europeans already living on the eastern harbour. Tuckett, the chief New Zealand Company surveyor at Nelson, was under instructions to select a suitable site for their clients who were Scottish Free Church colonial immigrants. He was accompanied by his two assistant surveyors Barnicoat and Davison, as well as John Symonds, a police magistrate sent along as the official Government superintendent of the transaction between the company and Maori.
On 31 May 1844, Tuckett advised local Kai Tahu he wished to negotiate with them for the purchase of land for a proposed Scottish colony. Less than a month later, Tuckett had an agreement to purchase 400,000 acres from the Otago Harbour to the Molyneux. The agreement was struck by principal rangatira Tuhawaiki, Taiaroa and Karetai, amongst others, at Koputai (Port Chalmers) in June 1844. The deed of sale was signed by 21 rangatira from Otakou at the same place in July. Approximately 150 members of Otakou Kai Tahu were witness to the sale and the confirmation of nearly 10,000 acres in three blocks of land excluded from the sale: the Otago Heads (6,665 acres), Taieri (2,310 acres) and Te Karoro (640 acres). There were also associated promises for schools, hospitals and reserves for Kai Tahu, as in many such land deals around the country. The provision for reserves was investigated a quarter of a century later when Topi Patuki presented a petition to the House of Representatives for an investigation into the infringement of their rights in this regard: according to witnesses at the subsequent hearing, the provision of reserves for landing sites and accommodation within the new settlements was apparently loosely brought up but never documented.
Between February and May 1846, a New Zealand Company surveyor Charles Kettle and his assistants laid out the settlement and larger block. The settlement of Dunedin itself was laid out by Mr. Davison and Mr. R. Park. The settlement design boasted an Octagon and long thoroughfares based on the Edinburgh city plan the Scottish colonists admired. The principal street line was barred midway by a steep, rock hill (Bell Hill), impassable except on foot, which effectively cut off the newly planned Princes Street from George Street.
The Toitu landing site and trading post
Kettle had drawn up his plan for the new settlement to include waterfront sections along the foreshore. Reclamation plans for the foreshore were evident in the plan but in the meantime he laid out small individual lots on the irregular strip of land on the seaward side of Princes Street for selection by colonists. Kettle thought that as the tide receded 150 – 300 yards from the frontage that those particular sections could never be used for quays or wharfs for vessels due to the shallowness of the water, and so a sea wall along the low water mark would reclaim an immense area.
The notion of individual sea frontage lots for colonists however, was reversed by Cargill, originally the Dunedin resident agent for the New Zealand Company and the Otago province superintendent in 1846. Cargill wrote to the New Zealand Company Secretary in London recommending public ownership of the seaward lots and those frontages that could not be immediately improved or required by the public, so that they could be leased to the Municipal authorities. This recommendation was accepted and the New Zealand Company Directors instructed their New Zealand agents that Cargill’s various suggestions were to be given effect to. This decision would have long reaching consequences for the Provincial Government and its successors, as well as Otakou Kai Tahu.
Trade
Between the sale of land in 1844 and when the first two ships carrying the new immigrants arrived in 1847, trading superiority lay firmly in the hands of Kai Tahu.
The social and economic landscape was able to absorb the new immigrants and there were many new possibilities. Early trade and engagement with Pakeha whalers and sealers had provided a healthy exchange of technology and information for Kati Mamoe – Kai Tahu, although the scales were likely tipped to the negative from the impact of disease, liquor and illicit behaviour by some of the seafaring crews. Be that as it may, Otakou Kai Tahu economy did move forward during this early colonial period. Kai Tahu were either employed on, or owned, whaling vessels; a strong horticultural and agricultural economy was flourishing (in 1840 nine tons of potatoes were shipped from Otakou and commercial wheat harvests were undertaken); a flax industry had been established and horses, cattle, pigs and sheep were grazed on their land. Coupled with the marine resources available on their back doorstep, Kai Tahu were well positioned to further integrate a settler’s economy with theirs.
And this they did for a time. Dacker notes that a whaler, Harwood, recorded that he had paid for pigs four times in 1842, at one time paying with a large whaling boat. Dacker also makes reference to Shortland’s recording of an 1843 transaction for a sealing boat costing 41 pigs and 700 baskets of potatoes.
In 1847 the first colonial immigrants arrived from Scotland. Many early migrants traded for fish, potatoes, wheat and sheep with Kai Tahu people. The new immigrants were fortunate to get guidance on how to adapt to their new conditions when they were taught how to weave and thatch raupo whare. As they ventured further afield, the settlers were also taught how to cross streams and rivers astride mokihi (“moggies”) of bundled reeds.
Using their boats and their extensive marine skills and experience Kai Tahu people transported European cargo and passengers. Maori-owned schooners, the Enterprise owned by Hone Karetai and the Perserverance owned by Tuhawaiki, supplemented the smaller vessels operating cargo and ferry services such as the one operated by Topi Patuki on the eastern coastal route between Ruapuke Island, Otakou and Welington.
Colonists and tangata whenua worked well together and even played together. One record describes the first anniversary event of the settlement taking place at Monticello where foot races were “indulged in by pakehas and maoris, after which a return was made to the harbour shore – not far away then – to watch Dunedin’s first regatta, the events including a sailing match, a rowing match for gigs, whaleboats and four oared gigs, and an exciting maori boat race…”
Change in trading conditions
Trade was a two way process, as the arrival of European tradesmen meant that the Maori could use their services too. As explained by Goodall and Griffiths, Otakou Kai Tahu were also keen bargainers, when they noted how colonist William Gilfillan recalled how his father repaired and painted boats at Blanket Bay in the 1850’s:
“The Maoris also brought their boats for repair, but were hard nails to deal with. I can well remember the old man Korikori, called by the europeans Colika, standing debating charges for hours at a time. He did not like parting with tehuti (utu) and always tried to beat down the prices.”
Prosperity from the trade and commerce was relatively short lived, as demand for Maori produce and labour waned as colonists learned how to fend for themselves. This resulted in Kai Tahu being slowly excluded from their traditional mahinga kai as settlers took up land sections, cleared them and introduced European notions of resource management. As the landscape altered, Kai Tahu’s ability to maintain their lifestyle changed drastically. The exchange of goods and services became notably one-directional as often poorly-manufactured European goods such as clothes, footwear and domestic appliances were sold at expensive rates resulting in no set gain for Kai Tahu. As Dacker summarises:
“When European labourers arrived in increasing numbers, when European schooners began trading with larger boats and a greater number of them, when European agriculture was established on the vast acres available to it, the demand for Maori produce and services dropped rapidly away.”
The small settlement got busy developing itself into a grand city. Basic roading, housing, civic services and a market place were established, street lines were cut and a jetty built to provide services for immigrants and commerce. A foot bridge was put over the Toitu as it crossed Princes Street. Space became problematic for Otakou Kai Tahu traders and they started lobbying for a permanent structure for their use where they could shelter and sleep.
In 1852, Crown Lands Commissioner for Southern Lands Walter Mantell wrote to the Colonial Secretary asking him to move the governor to grant “to certain natives who are in the habit of visiting the Towns of Dunedin and Port Chalmers a small portion of land for the erection of houses for their accommodation at each of those places.” The “small portion of land” in Dunedin would become known as the Princes Street Reserve. A further letter from Mantell on 18th April 1853 advised that the site that was selected was “the only suitable piece of land now vacant: although steep towards the water it has a spot where the Natives could easily construct a place for their boats to lie.”
Later, he advised that he had not recommended the site proposed by Ngai Tahu but ‘a narrow steep between Princes Street and the mud flats of the harbour which was regarded as of less value, and as at that time almost out of the town.” This recommendation would set in motion a chain of events that would stretch over multiple generations eventually featuring as a key chapter in the Ngai Tahu Waitangi Tribunal claim.
Grey had approved Mantell’s 1852 proposal for a reserve at Port Chalmers and a piece of land right by the water by Princes Street for Otakou Kai Tahu. Aware of this approval, Kai Tahu lobbied for the provision of their space however there was little response. In 1853 civic inequality reared its head when Kai Tahu men were excluded from using their communal lands as qualification for voting in the new provincial government elections. In 1854, when the Provincial Council was formed with the express purpose of looking after public reserves, Otakou Kai Tahu were rapidly losing the means to compete in the new settler economy.
Led by Cargill, the Otago authorities disputed the reserve of land and felt that Grey was infringing on their right to plan their city. During several years of debate between provincial and colonial government as to who was able to hold ownership of the foreshore, the seaward lots were leased out.
In 1855 the Provincial Council contemplated erecting a Maori hostelry as an urgent necessity. Within two weeks plans were approved. However, it was then decided that the superintendent’s proposal to renovate the Survey Office near the Toitu estuary was more acceptable, “the site…being the one of all others most acceptable to the Natives.” Left in the hands of the proposer Superintendent Cargill, nothing appeared to come of this decision. Cargill’s behaviour towards Otakou Kai Tahu was complained about, Tiramorehu writing to Governor Gore Browne in 1856 voicing his displeasure saying, “We have not been pleased with Captain Cargill, with McAndrew’s set, with all the men of Scotland. Though seven years have passed they do not know anything of us, nothing at all of the Maori from Murihiku to Waitaki.”
In December 1856 the Dunedin Town Council considered the mud and drainage problems that were occurring in Princes Street (by this time Dunedin had gained the great nickname of “Mud edin”). The levels of the Toitu were to be ascertained as a prelude to creek diversion. By February the following year matters had progressed to the council seeking a report and plan for a bridge over the stream at the Survey Office before making their decision to culvert and then fill in the Toitu watercourse at their 11 March 1857 meeting, resolving that,
“for the purpose of advertising for tenders Mr Calder be instructed to furnish Plans and specifications for the proposed improvement of the Bridge way in Princes Street – viz – to cut a new channel in front of the Commercial Inn till it meets the present creek opposite Mr Sidey’s property – to cut a new channel across the Main Road in front of the Smithy – to make a culvert of stone with turned arch. 6 feet wide and 5 feet high in the clear – the bottom of culvert to be 2 feet below high water mark – to fix a self acting floodgate at the lower end – to cover the arch with not less than a foot of Rubble and good metal and to raise the main road to the same level – the present watercourse by Mr Carnegie’s Store and under present bridge to be filled up”.
The Council followed that up in the next meeting with a plan for a twenty foot wide viaduct to be built over the “hollow at the Survey Office”, to allow for dray passage. This plan was not expected to interfere with the culverting work.
The culvert work appears to have commenced by July 1857 as the Town Council minutes record a payment of £20 to “Messrs Calder & Jenkins on account of Culvert in Princes Street” and later in September they resolved “that the Culvert at present being erected across Princes Street at the Survey Office be carried out the full breadth of the Street to Mr Sidey’s fence.” The Council authorised the balance of monies for building the culvert and excavation to Messrs Calder and Jenkins at their meeting on 12 November 1857. They also approved an additional sum of £150 to be applied towards carrying out further cutting and banking works across the “culvert and creek” in Princes Street.
At the same time the Toitu was being diverted, the by then harrowing difficulties that Otakou Kai Tahu were experiencing appeared in the Otago Colonist newspaper editorial, openly questioning why arrangements for accommodation had not been completed:
“It is positively harrowing to the feelings of humanity to see a number of women being huddled together cold and shivering upon the open beach, with the thermometer below freezing point, exposed to the rain and the snow...”
The following year, after undertaking a site visit, the central government stepped in, advising the provincial government that it wished to erect a hostelry for Ngai Tahu visiting Dunedin. It noted two eligible pieces on the Beach frontage of Reserve No 7 (previously granted to the Superintendent under the Public Reserves Act 1854), or “on the adjoining strip of beach frontage extending from the new Culvert [Toitu] along the line of High Street.” Richmond, the native minister, put forward “that the Provincial Government will propose to the Provincial Legislature any legislation which may be requisite to secure the site in perpetuity for the use of the Natives, and for preserving a convenient landing place for their canoes at some point on the above named Beach frontage.” The Otago Colonist was not impressed by the tardy reactions from the Provincial Government, denouncing the delay in their editorial:
“…The whole history of this affair is so utterly disgraceful to us as a community that we are strongly tempted to throw a veil over it…We would simply ask our readers to walk along the beach in the very centre of the professedly religious capital of Otago, and there they will see the aborigines of the country – men and women and children – huddled together and spending the night on the cold ground…Truly may it be said of the Maoris of Otago, paradoxical thought it be, that if no man careth for their souls, fewer still care for their bodies…Surely while the single church-door collections of some of our congregations amount to upwards of forty pounds on behalf of mission to the Jews-while we can contribute freely towards the missions to India, to the New Hebrides and elsewhere, and yet can stand calmly by for years and see the residue of the race we have supplanted dying out…”
In 1859, the construction of a building finally began on land adjacent to the old survey office near the former Toitu estuary. Power-wrestling negotiations between the provincial and general government meant that no security of tenure could be given to the Otakou Maori tenants.
As can be seen from the early photographs, by 1863 the hostelry was almost buried underneath the street widening earthworks and a recommendation for removal or increase in height of the building was made.
During 1865 the hostelry was dismantled and although the Otago Executive council agreed to provide a site on the north side of the Stewart Street jetty, the building was never re-erected, nor was any other hostelry provided for Maori at Dunedin either by the provincial or central government.
Reclamation was rapidly lowering the height of Bell Hill, and by March 1864 the land reclamation reached as far as between Bond and Crawford streets. The lease of land on the foreshore by the municipality of Dunedin (based on the General Government approving a grant for land below the high water mark) meant that the Council was able to fund harbour developments. The spoil from Bell Hill was used as fill for the reclamation, and the first piece of reclaimed land was sold on a 99 year leasehold at a rental of £1 per foot of street frontage.
Princes Street reserve
Unfortunately for Otakou Kai Tahu, the gold rush occurred in the 1860’s. Thousands of diggers poured into Otago; dozens of ships sat in its harbour and the port was heavily used. The Provincial Council was faced with inadequate harbour facilities in high demand and the town’s tentative infrastructure was stretched far beyond its capability. In the face of that demand, Otakou Kai Tahu were at the bottom of the priority list for the provincial government. Obtaining control over the reserves, however, was high on this list of priorities. During an 1865 session in the House of Representatives, a quid pro quo arrangement for support for the transfer of the Princes Street Reserve to the Otago Province in return for a vote against the making of three Maori Provinces within the existing Auckland Province secured a resolution from the House of Representatives to vest the reserves in the Superintendent of Otago in trust for the municipality of Dunedin.
A Crown Grant - to the municipality of Dunedin - was controversially signed by Grey in January 1866. By August, Otakou Kai Tahu had learned of this and H.K. Taiaroa wrote to the Governor protesting that the Princes Street reserve had been taken from Ngai Tahu.
The promise of the Toitu tauraka waka being set apart as a reserve for Otakou Kai Tahu was first documented in a petition to Queen Victoria by John Topi Patuki in August 1867. In his petition he stated that in addition to the three blocks of land reserved from sale [in 1844] that:
“the said chiefs further demanded that there should be made at that time, and guaranteed to them, certain small reserves, including two at Otepoti, now known as Dunedin, - now known as Dunedin [sic] namely, one near the stream which crosses Princes Street, near Rattray Street, [i.e. – the Toitu], and other fronting a small sandy cove to the eastward of the site afterwards occupied by the manse and the land adjoining.”
In May 1868, shortly after the petition was filed, the first sitting of the Native Land Court in Dunedin heard an application on behalf of Ngai Tahu to have the Princes Street reserve investigated. The Court declined the application as the land was a Crown Grant and not Native Title. Kai Tahu were told to take their case to the Supreme Court, which they did. The Kai Tahu proceedings were ironically known as Regina v Macandrew, brought in the name of the Queen, on behalf of Ngai Tahu, against the superintendent of Otago, J Macandrew. They sought a declaration by the Supreme Court that the Crown grant of the Princes Street be set aside as a reserve, claiming that the governor had previously reserved the land for the use of Ngai Tahu visiting Dunedin. This was rejected. The Court believed the Royal instructions on which the tribe relied did not give the governor the power to make the Princes Street reserve.
An application to appeal to the Privy Council followed. Two years later, Ngai Tahu were given leave to appeal from the Privy Council and the New Zealand Government agreed to grant money towards Ngai Tahu’s legal costs. This offer was subsequently withdrawn and the Otago provincial government eventually proposed a compromise position: if Ngai Tahu would withdraw its appeal to the Privy Council, they would set aside a piece of land at Pelichet Bay of equal area or expend not less than £1000 pounds on erecting a suitable home or Maori hostelry to be built in brick. The accumulated rents from the lease of the reserve would be refunded to Ngai Tahu if their claim was proven.
A further offer in 1872 for a payment of £5,000 saw Ngai Tahu withdraw their claim on advice that it was probably the best deal they would be able to get. They received the compensation money, however a dispute about the accrued rental proceeds and interest continued on and off and in 1874 the Native Affairs Committee recommended “that a further payment should be made to the Natives of the rents which had accrued prior to the issue of the Crown grant or a reserve should be made of land to that value for the benefit of the Natives interested.” The government approved the payment of £5,000 and no reserve. H.K. Taiaroa would make subsequent, unsuccessful, efforts to obtain payment of the balance of the interest on the accrued rents.
In the meantime work on widening Princess Street and reclamation continued. Provincial Government buildings on the old foreshore tauraka waka site were established, leases were let, houses and commerce increased and Otakou Kai Tahu trade and opportunity were submerged under the rise of development as was the Toitu.
Dunedin’s two frenetic periods of growth – the initial settlement and the later gold rush – energised the civic authorities and business people to expand their shipping capability and the city emerged. Once Bell Hill had been lowered to a more manageable height and the reclamation had opened up new land, new civic buildings were included in plans to upgrade the heart of the city.
By 1875 nearly 26,000 people resided in the city of Dunedin; planned streets had now been surveyed and formed, even if only metalled; reclamation had extended the flat area along the foreshore; retail and trade commerce shops were busy; residential areas had even developed their own character as evidenced by the house variation from cottages in Stuart Street to the substantial mansions on Heriot Row. In contrast to this, Otakou Kai Tahu struggled with a limited landscape and economic opportunity, the loss of access to traditional mahinga kai and a plethora of rules and laws that they were still debarred from participating in the creation of.
By 1875, just over 30 years after the sale of lands to the New Zealand Company representative Charles Tuckett, the Toitu stream and tauraka waka were buried underneath the development of the Princes Street civic buildings.
In 1875, The Otago Witness reported to its readers that,
“The site for the Post Office is the plot of land adjoining the Custom House, at the junction of High street with Princes street. The front will be at an angle across the junction of the two streets, so as to bring the side in line with Water street, which street line will form the second pier of the intended Rattray street dock. The building will be so placed as to conform to the proposed widening of Princes street to 100ft. In consequence of the nature of the ground, the foundation will have to be excavated; but it is considered that this may be made a source of public profit as well as convenience…”
The subsequent Post Office was known as the “Exchange Building” and later used by the University of Otago and the Otago Museum. Both the Exchange Building (constructed 1864 to 1868 and demolished in 1969) and the 1863 Custom House building (demolished in 1973) thoroughly submerged all traces of the tauraka waka.
A monument to William Cargill was erected in the Octagon in 1864 but was moved to the Exchange in 1872. Intended as a drinking fountain, gas lamp and even a viewing platform for planned (but never eventuating) gardens, the monument is the oldest structure in the Exchange Square (also known as John Wickliffe Plaza commemorating the first of two ships to bring the Otago Associations first settlers to Dunedin. Cargill’s Monument is a Category 1. The Monument was entered on to the New Zealand Heritage List / Rarangi Korero (List no.4754) as a Category 1 Historic Place in 1987.
Struggle for recognition of a broken promise
Otakou Kai Tahu never forgot the tauraka waka and the Princes Street Reserve. Successive generations continued to lobby and litigate both provincial and central government for one hundred and thirty years. The 1867 petition from John Patuki Topi was followed by the 1872 Commission at which witnesses to the 1844 sale by Tare Wetere Te Kahu and Hoani Wetere Korako testified to the promise of boat landing reserve lands on either side of Otepoti Creek. From 1872 to 1920 at least 18 inquiries were held into Ngai Tahu grievances as to unfulfilled promises or their landless state. Reports, findings and recommendations from various commissions were largely ignored.
In 1920, a letter from John Topi prompted a debate between members of the Otago Institute about who to blame for the promise of the reserve not being realised. Mantell was blamed for ignoring the prior claim of the Provincial Government. Interestingly, the letter was read out “with a view to showing how the Maoris relied on the mere verbal promise of the white man in such matters as these [the promise of the reserve]”.
Further decades of protest and complaint continued.
The issue of promised reserves in a thoroughly conservative community such as Dunedin continued to be a low key issue as the community and the country at large struggled through wider problems such as the Great Depression and the Second World War. In fact, if publications reflect community response to the tauraka waka and reserve ‘issue’, a 1978 cartoon in the Otago Daily Times reflected a community perhaps a little bemused that there was still an unresolved ‘problem’.
The passage of the Waitangi Tribunal Act in 1975 finally established a forum for a comprehensive inspection of Treaty of Waitangi grievances. The Ngai Tahu claim was lodged with the Waitangi Tribunal in 1986 after the Waitangi Tribunal Act had been amended to extend the Tribunal’s jurisdiction to claims dating back to 1840. Ngai Tahu’s claim included Otakou Kai Tahu’s grievance regarding the Princes Street Reserve (which included the issue of the Toitu tauraka waka). After several years of claimant, public and Crown evidence the Waitangi Tribunal noted that Otakou Kai Tahu had never abandoned the claim even though, “...the history of this claim is complex and bedevilled with legal complications and court proceedings.” The Tribunal eventually found that while there were significant breaches on the part of the Crown over the generations, and that while there was an agreed expectation with respect to reserves at Otepoti, there was insufficient evidence that a reserve around the tauraka waka had been asked for or promised in 1844. The Tribunal therefore dismissed that part of Ngai Tahu’s claim.
Current Otakou Kai Tahu values and aspirations for Toitu tauraka waka
An interpretation panel commemorating the tauraka waka placed at the corner of Water and Bond Streets by the Dunedin City Council was the only tangible evidence at the site of the earliest landscape found by the colonists when they reached Otepoti in 1847. This panel was vandalised in May 2015 and has not been replaced.
Despite the fact that the tauraka waka has been concreted, tar-sealed and built over, Otakou Kai Tahu aspire to bring alive their important connections to the site through place name, interpretation and education. The recent naming of the principal museum as the “Toitu museum” was a significant element in restoring awareness and recognition of the tauraka waka and associations. Whereas some in the wider community were unsure why Kai Tahu continue to have a problem with the historic loss of the site (as per the cartoon above), Otakou Kai Tahu are perplexed that there may be a need to defend their relationship with their wahi tupuna. Otakou Kai Tahu believe that “as time passes new information and archival material still emerges to illuminate the history and happenings in the contact period of this important land marker to the hapu of Otakou, it remains an important pou in the annals of manawhenua.”
