THE ARTIFACTS
We had chosen the
little cove to camp because it was a long way from the main tramping track and
access to it was difficult.
We had been happily
camping for 6 days when the little stream that was providing us with fresh
drinking water, dried up during the night.
At breakfast, we
weighted up our options. Our only alternative appeared to be to “up camp” and
at low tide make our way around the rocks, until we picked up the walking track.
We would then follow it the nearest official campsite, but as we had sufficient
water for the day, we decided to put off the final decision until the next
morning.
As the day wore on, I
became increasingly frustrated with the idea of having to leave our cove, and so
in the late afternoon, I decided to explore the little swamp in the corner of
the inlet to see if perhaps I could find some water there. Pushing my way past a thick clump of flax
bushes, I came across a little trickle of water. As it looked relatively clean,
I returned to the camp to get a bucket and shovel.
Back in the swamp, I
carefully choose a spot to dig a hole to make it easier to collect water. I had
managed to dig down to almost the correct depth for my bucket when I hit an old
log. Getting down on my hands and knees, I began to scope the mud away from
around it. As I did so, I came across various mud-covered stones. These I tossed aside. For some reason the next one, I found I washed.
To my amazement, I recognized the stone I had cleaned to be in fact a Maori adz
(as were the other six stones I had thrown away). Turning my attention to the log, I discovered
it too was shaped. It was a small canoe!
The next morning at low
tide, two of us made our way around the rocks until we picked up the track. We followed it until we arrived at the
official campsite where a park ranger was stationed.
The ranger was very
excited when we showed him our find. We were soon flying across the water in
the park boards powerboat in order to show the ranger the exact location of my
excavation. The ranger told us that in a
couple of months, an archeological team was arriving in the park and he would
show them the site.
With the fresh water we
had transported to the cove (courtesy of the ranger), we were able stay in the
cove until my friend’s father arrived in his boat to take us back to
civilization. So ended our camping holiday of 1979.
Two years later, I
received a letter from the National Parks Board. It said; “It has come to our
attention that you committed a serious offence by digging a hole in a national
park. If you commit such an offence again, you will be fined! (There was no
mention of the artifacts)!
Years later, I was
talking with a Maori friend about things Maori, when I happened to mention what
I had found in the park. She was amazed with my story and asked if I would be
willing to show the site to the elders of her tribe as the things I had found almost
certainly belonged to her people. I agreed providing the expedition was
official.
A couple of months
later I found myself back in the cove accompanied by three park rangers, my
Maori friend, and an elder from her tribe.
When we arrived in the
swamp, the rangers set to work digging holes where I indicated. Even the
82-year-old elder picked up a shovel and began digging. Soon my friend and I
became extremely concerned. It was obvious that no thought was being given to
the cultural and spiritual aspects of what they were doing. When the topic of
conversation turned to the prospect of finding green stone, our suspicions were
confirmed. Those digging were treasure hunting!
After an hour, someone
found an adze. This was followed a short time later by a carved piece of wood.
Then the heavens opened and it began to rain heavily. Everyone made a dash for
a cave on the beach to take shelter.
My friend and I sat a
little distance from the others and discussed the extraordinary act of
disrespect we had just witnessed. When the rain eased, we told the others we
were going for a walk along the beach but in fact doubled back to the swamp
unseen. My friend offered up prayers of apology in Maori and then we set to
work filling in the holes our colleagues had dug. As we picked up clumps of mud
that had been thrown aside, we began to discover all types of items: adzes, a
rock with a hole in it (later confirmed as an anchor), carved pieces of wood
etc. When I carefully washed off a very
strange shaped piece of wood, my friend was shocked! She told me what I was
holding was religiously very significant and that its presence indicated the
site was very important.
After we had finished
our work, we returned to our colleagues, but did not tell them what we had done
or found. Soon after the boat picked us
up.
The next day we made
our way to Wellington to talk to the curator of the museum. The curator was
very upset with or story and told us the parks board had specific rules to
follow in cases of archeological finds and that he would take the matter to the
highest levels. (We heard later that the rangers were severely reprimanded. The
elder was chastised by his tribe as he
had not told them about our expedition).
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