Replicas and revelations
On the morning of Saturday 5 October, I stood with my eight-year-old son on Waikanae Beach in Tūranganui-a-Kiwa, watching waka hourua and va’a moana — double-hulled Māori and Pacific sailing vessels — arrive in the bay.
It was cloudless, with a sharp nor’wester that would eventually prevent the boats from landing on the beach. Nearby at the port, enormous piles of felled pines were stacked like firewood, waiting to be loaded. A giant cargo ship, the Black Forest, doubly-flagged to China and Hong Kong, was docked there, while two similarly enormous ships hovered on the horizon.
Not far from where we stood, there is a statue of “Young Nick”: pointing out, in a weird reversal, at the
