Up the Spine of the Fish

My feet sink into the sand. That last wave gently tugs at my heels.
I haven't caught anything - again - but I don't care. I look up at the horizon sweeping west to the out-of-focus ridges of the Abel T National Park and east along the beach to Tahuna and the Boulder Bank, Nelson and the hint in the haze beyond - D'Urville Island and the Sounds. Paradise, really.

I wonder what the view from Ninety Mile Beach must be like. I've looked at the map. There'll be no speech marks framing the view -the beach is too long. All we'll see is that endless strip of blue on blue. A panorama, my Mum would say. You'd be able to see the curve. See where it drops off to the place where monsters be. I can't wait.

I'll be fishing there in about 15 days. After Wellington, New Plymouth, Whangamomona, Piopio, Hamilton, Ngaruawhia, Auckland, Kaiwaka, Kaitaia and Rawene. We'll go to Cape Reinga after. Or maybe Reinga then fishing. I don't know. It doesn't matter. It's a holiday. The only thing we've booked is the ferry and two nights in New Plymouth. The rest is road trip. Well, that's not entirely true. Our mothers are expecting us and you can't go messing around your 70 and 80 year old Mums. They won't stand for it. But other than that we'll make our way up the island as we please. Stopping where we want and just enjoying the time and togetherness. The trip.

We're both North Islanders so planning has been a combination of family obligations, explorations and nostalgic side trips. We've driven State Highway 1 a hundred times and many of the side roads at one time or another. But other explorations are brand new for both of us.

The Forgotten Highway is one. SH43 links Taranaki and the King Country but instead of skirting the coast and easing inland to Te Kuiti it attaches itself to the foot of the mountain and- safety line secured - plunges into the steep bush covered hill country that skirts the top of the Whanganui National Park. You wind through the creases and wrinkles in the belly of the fish until you emerge in Taumarunui.

This is the land where the last of the Maori generals took their people and were basically never defeated. Also the area where the Tainui Maori King, Tukaroto Potatau Matutaera Tawhiao , maintained his land and full control until 1883. Maori call the King Country "Te Rohe Potae" - the Place of the Hat- because the area was opened to settlers only after Tawhiao used Governor George Grey's hat as an analogy for his land.

Grey had offered a deal - a line on the map - whereby the King Country and Taranaki was equally divided between the settlers and Tawhiao's people. Tawhiao took Grey's hat and threatened to cut it in half. When Grey protested Tawhiao said "You were afraid that if we cut your hat in half it would be damaged. But would the land not be damaged if we cut it in half?"

Grey acknowledged his point but reminded him of the continuing bloodshed and said something had to be done. They had to come to some agreement. So Tawhiao took his own hat - a bowler - and placed it on the map. "Huri, huri, huri. Around and around and around the brim of the hat, you can have all that. This is mine'. Grey agreed and the area under the hat became known by the Maori as Te Rohe Potae and to Pakeha as the Maori King Country.

The bi cultural nature of our country is nicely reflected here too. They celebrate Whangaroa Republic Day every January. A little piece of modern history steeped in the dry, laconic humour of our Pakeha heritiage.

The remote ruggedness that made this neck of the woods such a stronghold also makes for fantastic scenery and I'm looking forward to the drive and a beer at Whangamomona.

I'll enjoy lots of other beers at the little independent breweries that dot the route through the island. We don't get to drink these beers down our way because many of the small breweries in New Zealand don't produce enough to export to the Mainland.

Later we'll join the backpackers and English tourists in their camper vans at the tip of the tail but before that Spike will have a moment when we skirt back into the farm country around Te Kuiti - her mother recently moved off the family farm. Although for most it's just boring dairy country, my heart will put in an extra beat as we crest the rise and glimpse the mighty Waikato.

We'll spend a couple of nights in the big smoke. We'll visit our mothers, my sisters and my sister and brother in law. I'll try to distinguish between the tribe of nieces and nephews who are all brown skinned with big brown eyes and all seem to have names that begin with T. We'll see a few old mates. We'll take gravel side roads. We'll eat egg sandwiches in funny little tea rooms. We'll read tourist information signs. Spike will navigate as I drive. We'll take a Thermos. We'll often just stop and look - even at places we've viewed a dozen times before.

I can't wait. My feet are embedded in the sand of a beach in Aotearoa.