Pūrākau: Ngake me Whātaitai

Long, long ago, the earth split open with a sharp crack, and a boiling spring burst through the soil! Out from the splashing water thrust a sharp claw, followed by terrifying, gleaming fangs. Two giant, dragon-like creatures known as taniwha slithered into the light.

These weren’t just any taniwha—they were two brothers. Ngake, the tuakana, was wild, fierce, and full of restless energy. Whātaitai, the teina, was completely different—gentle, soft-spoken, and calm.

Ngake let out a low, icy hiss that was so loud it gave the whole forest goosebumps. He had a mission: to break open the tightly closed jaws of the giant ika that formed the harbour. Tail whipping like a thunderbolt, Ngake thrashed against the land! He slammed into the earth at Remutaka, shattering the rock into jagged cliffs and splitting the valley wide open as he charged into the freshwater roto of Te Wai Mānga.

The water roared and crashed against his face, flooding the brand-new valley and creating Te Awakairangi (the Hutt River). Focused on his goal, Ngake coiled his massive tail, striking the water at Whiorau (Lowry Bay) until the waves boiled. With a colossal burst of power, he rammed straight into te ika’s clenched teeth, smashing them to pieces before plunging out into the wild ocean of Te Moana-i-Raukawakawa (Cook Strait). Saltwater rushed in to mix with the fresh roto, creating the great harbour of Te Whatu Wai Moana.

Watching his brother swim free, gentle Whātaitai tried to follow. But as he reached the narrow korokoro of te ika, he twisted and writhed, trying to squeeze through. Suddenly, te ika  gasped, took a giant gulp, and swallowed Whātaitai whole!

Te ika began to choke and cough, desperately retching until it spat Whātaitai back out into the shallows—along with three giant globs of spittle that flew into the harbour. (Hundreds of years later, people would know these spittle-created rocks as the islands of Mokopuna, Mātiu, and Mākaro).

Whātaitai landed hard in the muddy shallow water, bruised and exhausted. Te ika finally lay still forever, but as the hot afternoon sun beat down on Whātaitai, it sapped every bit of his strength. He tried with all his remaining force to drag himself back out to the deep ocean, but he couldn’t make it, and his long journey came to an end.

As Whātaitai’s body grew still, a beautiful bird-like spirit lifted gently from him. The spirit flew up and perched at the very peak of the sacred maunga Mātairangi (Mt Victoria). Sitting high above the bay, the spirit bird let out two sorrowful, ringing calls: the first cry was to mourn the gentle taniwha who had passed, and the second was a waiata to celebrate the future of humankind. Because of this weeping bird, the peak earned the name Tangi te Keo.

Then, the bird-spirit took off, launching high into the bright sky. As the sun’s rays caught its feathers, it shimmered and glowed like a magical heat-haze, earning the name Te Manu Muramura. Up and up it soared, melting into the blue sky until it disappeared beyond the clouds.