To the Chathams
04 May 2017
The misty remote Chatham Islands have long had a mysterious appeal to me. They were settled by the Moriori people about 500 years ago, probably arriving from the South Island of NZ. But there have been many myths about them, and the idea was propagated that they were a lighter skinned, separate race and the original inhabitants of New Zealand, eliminated by the Maori. The story became a kind of talkback radio justification for our treatment of the Maori. But the reality is that they were probably a branch of the Ngai Tahu, who moved out to that rather bleak outpost, but able to survive on the plentiful kai moana. One fascinating thing about them was they developed a culture of non-violence nunuku-whenua, which tragically proved a poor defence against Taranaki Maori who invaded on a European ship in 1835. A very cruel genocide took place, and survivors became slaves and a living larder. Currently there are about 6 or 7 hundred people living on the Chathams, of whom only 30 odd claim Moriori heritage. Starting in the 1960s the Chathams became famous for a huge crayfish boom, and fishing is still its main industry. Anyway, the Chatham Islands are famous for their hospitality, and our genial Lyttelton hardware proprietor, Arthur Erdman, always thoroughly enjoyed his visits there. (The 'Holmdale' which serviced the Chathams used to berth right in front of us when we lived in the Pink House, Sumner Road).
Anyway, to cut a long story short, I've always wanted to go there. And because it's a journey of 3 or 4 days, it became a journey reminiscent of our practice trips to the Philippines which were a similar time/distance.