Tracking the taniwha

October 11, 2004 17:13

It was 1933, the Scottish summer was reaching its peak, and George Spicer believed he had viewed the monster that was now notorious in those parts. “The large creature appeared on the road and had a thick body and long neck,” said Spicer. “The creature moved with a jerky movement and quickly slid into the Loch.” If his account was true, then this was another in a long list of ‘sightings’ of the Loch Ness Monster; the mythological creature which has haunted the Scottish landscape for over 500 years. Unknown to many, New Zealand has its own versions of the Loch Ness Monster: the taniwha. Like the Loch Ness Monster, Aotearoa’s taniwha represent cultural identity, the power of myth, and a great topic of conversation.
In my role as Kaiwhakapaoho, the wise heads above me suggested I undertake a journey of exploration into the theories surrounding taniwha. It was to be a journey devoid of western scientific instruments and inflatable water wings; it was to be an exploration into our personal experiences and convictions. This journey was an opportunity to celebrate something iconic to New Zealand, and to step beyond the political rhetoric of slimy beasts lurking in the swamps. The Critic taniwha hunt had begun; a hunt to discover what taniwha represent to us.

Slaying the beast

Ngai Tahu mythology handed down from generation to generation the tale of a great taniwha that once lived in the basin of Lake Wakatipu. The taniwha, Matau, would prey on young women and drag them back to his inland cave. One young lady Matau entrapped was the beautiful maiden Manata. Her father offered her hand in marriage to anyone who could rescue the damsel and return her home safely. Step forward our hero, Matakauri, who, with the help of a posse of taniwha vigilantes, employed soothing music to slay the taniwha in his sleep. The giant was mercilessly burned, creating lake Wakatipu’s distinctive serpentine shape.
Tahu Potiki, Chief Executive Officer for Te Runanga o Ngai Tahu, assures Critic that the beast has been slain, and is unlikely to return to wreak havoc on Queenstown. “It better be slain, otherwise the Shotover Jet business would be in serious trouble,” says Potiki who is sceptical about the actual existence of taniwha. “[Taniwha] are not real, they are imaginary,” he says. “The old Maori view of the world allowed for taniwha, as they explained descent lines from the gods.” Although he does not think that taniwha are tangibly real, Potiki does believe they play a major part in the identity of Maori, and New Zealand.
For Ngai Tahu, traditions of taniwha represent the links between the cosmological world of the gods and present generations. These shared histories reinforce tribal identity and nourish a sense of continuity between generations. Potiki can trace his whakapapa (ancestry) directly to the taniwha Matamata. The story of Matamata illustrates the significance of taniwha in the Maori worldview; a worldview where taniwha imbue the landscape with fantastic stories about the feats of significant ancestors as a way of remembering them and giving life to their mana.
Matamata was part of the creation myth of the Taieri district, and the guardian spirit of Te Rakitauneke, to whom Potiki can directly trace his ancestry. Says Potiki, “To be a descendent of Matamata provides huge mana … This is what many do not understand… for some, taniwha is just a story, but for a direct descendent it is huge mana.”
Respeck for yo’ culcha
Like Potiki, Willie Jackson – the host of TV One’s talk show Eye to Eye – does not believe in the notion of physical swamp monsters, or evil beasts. Eye to Eye recently hosted a forum on the subject of taniwha, which included Mike Smith, the man nationally infamous for pruning One Tree Hill with a chainsaw. Smith claimed that he believes there are taniwha lurking under many bridges, a claim that makes Jackson laugh.
Jackson was brought up in the urban sprawl of Auckland, but still grew up with an appreciation of tikanga Maori and taniwha, an appreciation installed in him by his father and great grandmother. Jackson says he thinks of taniwha in a more spiritual sense. “That is what my sort of view of taniwha is: I think there is some sort of existence of it, but I am not sure how I can define that, but I would never rubbish my sort of upbringing and how my father talked to me about it.” Jackson’s father referred to the existence of taniwha primarily in a spiritual sense. “He didn’t talk to me about it with there being a monster around the corner or anything… but he said something existed in a spiritual sense… and even he couldn’t quite define it.”
Having been brought up with a Maori worldview, Jackson remains respectful of what his family told him, and is aware of the unknown. “I don’t see it like Mike Smith sees it… I could never go along with that sort of stuff… but I have been in places where my father is from, and there are some eerie things that have happened around there, and you wonder about taniwha not so much in a physical sense… it is like a happening rather than a physical being like a dragon or whatever.”
It annoys Jackson that some people can be so dismissive of taniwha and Maori mythology. “I really hate it when people are so disrespectful of culture, and in this country it is almost trendy to be disrespectful of our culture. … I get really angry when Pakeha rubbish our people and their beliefs, that’s what makes me particularly angry.”
Jackson agrees that taniwha are unique to New Zealand and should be respected as a treasure. “All of a sudden it is like we are a bunch of voodoo people or something … I think it is precious and I don’t think it is something to be scoffed at… and I think they exist, for me anyway, more in a spiritual sense, and I think there is something there and I respect it, and I never rubbish it, or I would be rubbishing my upbringing.”

Alive in the arts

Whether you’re a sceptic or believer, taniwha exist for us all on many different levels. I suggest if you are still reading this article, you are giving life to taniwha through your own personal perception and beliefs in what taniwha represent for you.
Vanessa Patea, an artist who creates murals around Wellington, is one of many New Zealanders who are giving life to taniwha through art. Her tribal affiliation is Tainui and Nga Puhi. “There is a Tainui expression,” says Patea: “Waikato taniwha rau, he piko he taniwha, he piko he taniwha: Waikato [River] of 100 monsters, at every bend a monster.” This proverb refers to the numerous independent chiefs, and is an illustration of the Maori worldview of taniwha representing the manifestation of ancestors past. Patea believes that “the serpent shape of the [Waikato] river” is another reflection of taniwha.
Heavily involved in the Taniwha Murals, a community project around the Wellington region, Patea is passionate about taniwha and the importance placed on them in Maori society today. The Taniwha Murals work was executed in conjunction with primary schools, community groups, and the Wellington City Council. The projects included rock art paintings and mythological murals. For Patea, “the concept of taniwha is the kaitiaki [guardianship] and the wairua [spirit] of a region… and also of mythological importance for the oral history of Aotearoa.”
Patea’s work has led her to make enquiries about the taniwha of different regions, and she has discovered they all have unique characteristics. One example, says Patea, is “the ability [of taniwha] to shape-shift. … For my art this is a fascinating concept, and I have used the image of taniwha in this form. Poutini of the pounamu, Whataitai and Ngaki of Te Whanganui-a-Tara [Wellington].”
Another Maori artist employing indigenous mythology in some of his work is award-winning author Witi Ihimaera. This iconic author places a great deal of value on taniwha in a personal and professional sense. Ihimaera is of Te Whanau a Kai on his paternal side, and his kaitiaki (guardian) is a taniwha. He told Critic via email: “Her name is Hine Te Ariki, and she would be termed a merwoman in today’s imagery. She lives in the Waipaoa River, which is the river running through the Waituhi Valley.”
Ihimaera says of Maori mythology, “I place important value on the balance of the seen and unseen in the world, and on the very real presence of what others term the ‘supernatural’ or ‘mythological’ within the natural world. … I would not be able to function if I did not acknowledge the role of this dimension in my life and work.”
Just as taniwha live on in the tales handed down from generation to generation, Patea and Ihimaera give further life to taniwha in the form of art and literature.

National icon

Humorist Te Radar – previously known as simply ‘Radar’ before undertaking a “cultural awakening” – believes taniwha are a tradition unique to New Zealand, and should not be derided. A devout atheist, he places the existence of taniwha on the same level as any “Christian or Islamic entity”. He looks at taniwha as a spiritual device, “kind of like a warning. … They are personified by this kind of persona… I am not saying they are like a gnome or an elf… they are more like a spirit.”
“I like taniwha,” admits Te Radar. In fact, he likes them very much, and draws links between acceptance of taniwha and the increasing use of Maori language among the wider population. “They [taniwha] are slowly becoming part of what it means to be a New Zealander,” he says.
In Christchurch, taniwha are employed as kaitiaki (guardians) of a bed and breakfast for gay tourists, fittingly named the Blue Taniwha. The Blue Taniwha host Kevin Smith, who carries a taniwha tattoo on his back, has a desire to present “Aotearoa as a Pacific destination”. Smith’s use of taniwha for his vacation accommodation “represents the mythical water creature from Maori legend, a guardian of the deep whose role is protector.”
Taniwha cannot be looked at through a western scientific lens, but rather seen as an opportunity to appreciate our own unique national identity. Taniwha are a link to the past and the embodiment of ancestors long since passed away. They warrant a sense of respect and an appreciation of everything unique to New Zealand. Taniwha act as kaitiaki in many different locations, be it as a warning sign to avoid swimming in dangerous places, or as guardian of alternative accommodation. It may well be the case that taniwha are the kaitiaki of New Zealand’s own unique identity.

The taniwha’s political voice

Taniwha have also had some small voice in the world of New Zealand politics in recent years. The building of a Northland Prison and Waikato highway were both recently delayed by local iwi, fearful of upsetting taniwha. The political power of taniwha drew a wide range of responses; responses often unfairly directed at the wider Maori population. Paul Holmes was found in breach of the broadcasting standards when discussing wahi tapu (sacred areas) and taniwha, after he invited viewers to “prepare to go ballistic” before a story on the topic aired on Holmes.
Despite the beliefs of a conservative minority, taniwha play an important role in the distinct culture of Aotearoa, and will continue to play a major role in the political landscape for as long as Maori are denied roles in decisions of national importance. Ngai Tahu CEO Tahu Potiki explains: “Only when Maori truly perceive themselves to be participants in this nation’s power dialogue will they be forced to weigh up the cultural and environmental trade-offs against the national priorities, and the question of taniwha will be tackled in new and innovative ways.”
However, Potiki does not believe that taniwha will inhibit development projects in the South Island. “The situation is a lot different in the North Island… whereas Ngai Tahu and South Island administrative authorities continue to build strong and positive working relationships.”
The continued use of Maori knowledge and appreciation of taniwha are as important as other cultural traditions, practices, and religious beliefs. After all, many people still attend church without fear of ridicule, despite the increasing numbers of new Zealanders who believe that God does not exist. However strange they may seem, it is traditions of belief that unite and identify our society. Try telling the descendants of George Spicer that the Loch Ness Monster is a silly native belief and no longer appropriate to the national identity of Scotland.
Brett Ellison
Kaiwhakapaoho