Hundreds of years ago, a man named Tara founded the first permanent human settlement in Wellington. The city still bears his name: Te Whanganui a Tara. But what do we actually know about him?

If you look out at the right angle from Ray Ahipene-Mercer’s house in Breaker Bay, you can’t see a single man-made object. You can imagine how the early Polynesian navigators would have felt when then they sailed into Wellington harbour for the first time, gazing in wonder at the steep hills of dark green, the piles of jagged rocks on the natural beaches, and the streams running into the vast body of water. 

The harbour has had several different names throughout its history. The name Wellington is in honour of Arthur Wellesley, the first Duke of Wellington, who commanded British forces at the Battle of Waterloo and later became UK prime minister. The city was named for him because he was a political supporter of the New Zealand Company’s colonisation scheme. He never visited New Zealand. 

Another early name, Port Nicholson (the likely origin of the informal Māori name Pōneke) is a reference to Sydney harbour master John Nicholson. He visited New Zealand a couple of times but never set foot in Wellington. Port Nicholson appeared on the first British map of the harbour in 1826 alongside another, much older name: Wangenue’Tera – or as it would be written today, Te Whanganui a Tara.

Te Whanganui a Tara, which translates to English as The Great Harbour of Tara, is a name that dates back centuries. Tara is the eponymous ancestor of Ngāi Tara. He was a rangatira who explored the lower North Island during the earliest days of Polynesian settlement in Aotearoa and founded the first villages in the harbour that bears his name. He was not the first human to ever visit Wellington – that honour belongs to the members of Kupe’s expedition who are said to have landed for a time at Seatoun/Te Turanga o Kupe – but he can be considered the father of human civilization in this region.

Unlike Nicholson or Wellesley, Tara has deep and important ties to the land and the region’s human history. But most Wellingtonians know nothing about him. Many don’t even realise that the name Te Whanganui a Tara refers to a person. 

When I visited Ray Ahipene-Mercer at his home, he was playing an Etta James record from the stereo, and the living room was strewn with guitars in various states of repair. The former Wellington City Councillor – just the second Māori ever elected to the council – is now semi-retired and works part-time as a luthier. “Tara is my great, great, great, great grandfather”, he told me proudly, though he’s missing probably about 40 “greats”. He is one of the few people in Te Whanganui a Tara with whakapapa to Ngāi Tara; the iwi mostly left the region under land pressures in the early 1800s. It’s now represented by the Muaūpoko Tribal Authority, based in Levin. 

When Ahipene-Mercer bought this house 40 years ago after a time living overseas, he got a call from a family friend, the historian and academic of the Māori language, Jock McEwen. “Ray, I see you’ve come home,” McEwen said. Ahipene-Mercer assumed McEwen was referring to New Zealand generally, but he actually meant this specific area. By pure coincidence, his new house was in the centre of the ancient home of the people of his great-grandmother, Ngāi Tara and Ngāti Ira. “I was in absolute wonder because I didn’t know that,” Ahipene-Mercer said. “That triggered a journey of inquiry for me. I started delving into the history and searching out as much information as I could.”

He reached up and pulled a book from his shelf, a gift he’d received from McEwen. It was old, dusty, and looked like it could fall apart with the slightest breeze. The cover was labelled The Land of Tara and They Who Settled It by Elsdon Best. He held it out to me like a sacred tome – which in a way, it is. “That book was a centrepiece of information that a lot of the older Māori did not know, because we’d been so disconnected,” he said. 

First published in 1919, The Land of Tara mostly consists of an English translation of an oral history recited by a tohunga named Moihi Te Mātorohanga. It’s an extremely vivid account of Wellington’s pre-European history, filled with specific details of Tara’s life, including his family history, the exact course he took to explore the lower North Island, the names and locations of the houses and villages he lived in, and the stories behind their construction. It even includes even a dramatic battle with bloody conflicts in recognisable locations across Wellington.

It’s worth noting that Elsdon Best is a controversial figure in New Zealand academia. The pakeha anthropologist dedicated much of his life to recording the cultural practices and history of Māori, particularly Tūhoe whom he lived amongst for 15 years. His efforts to record that history were an invaluable contribution to New Zealand society, but they were done through a lens of racial superiority. He believed he was chronicling an inferior culture that would soon die out. He described Māori as “from the lower plains of civilisation” and wrote that “the Māori is not equal to the European settler”.  He also contributed to several harmful ideas, including the Moirori myth.

Despite Best’s complex reputation, The Land of Tara is considered the most reliable account of early human settlement in Wellington. The Waitangi Tribunal report for Wellington Harbour relied on it as the primary source and didn’t find any competing evidence that raised doubts about its accuracy. 

Tara the explorer

The story of Tara begins in the Māhia Peninsula near Hawke’s Bay, some time between the 12th and 14th century. A young, heavily pregnant woman named Hotuwaipara was standing on the beach, gazing out to the ocean, waiting for her husband Whātonga to return from a fishing expedition. 

Whātonga brought back a catch of nohu, or porcupine fish. They had just started unloading baskets of fish when Hotuwaipara yelped in pain, “Aue”. She had cut her finger on the sharp, extended spines of one of the fish. When she gave birth soon afterwards, she named her son in memory of the incident: Tara, or Tara-Ika i Nohu. Tara directly translates as spike or thorn. 

Tara grew up in Nukutaurua, Māhia Peninsula, surrounded by sandy coves and rolling surf. Most of the people in the village were first-generation migrants who had arrived in Aotearoa on the waka Kurahaupo. Whātonga knew their village in Māhia would not be sufficient for a growing population. They needed to find new land for their people to settle. Somewhere with a protected harbour, plentiful access to fresh water, good soil for growing crops, and which wasn’t exposed to invaders. 

One day, when Tara was an adult, Whātonga gave him and his half-brother Tautoki a quest: explore the lower North Island in search of land. They took a crew of 60 men on an epic year-long adventure into the great unknown. [Note: Some oral histories say it was Whātonga, not Tara, who led this expedition.]

Leaving Māhia, Tara and Tautoki charted a course south down the east coast, past soaring cliffs and gentle beaches. The first place that caught their eye was Napier harbour, which had good landing sites and plenty of streams and rivers, but they decided the land was too flat and exposed to invaders.  

The crew ventured further south down the long, unforgiving coastline without finding a single promising site. At the coast’s southern tip, the waka rounded Cape Palliser, where they saw the dramatic triangular rock formation Ngā Rā o Kupe/Kupe’s Sail. In Palliser Bay, things were promising. Wairarapa Lake had plenty of food resources. The soil was good, and there were many freshwater streams. Tara thought it was highly desirable land, but too flat and exposed and could only be defended by a large population. 

The crew continued around Baring Head until they reached the enormous saltwater lake of Wellington harbour. It seemed to fit their criteria perfectly. The land was covered with vegetation, suggesting it had fertile soil. There were plenty of freshwater streams and good fishing grounds. Most importantly, it was safe, especially the island in the middle of the harbour, Matiu/Somes Island, which had cliffs on all sides and was small enough to defend from all angles. 

There was another island in the harbour that Tara found even more interesting. Today, it’s best known as the Miramar peninsula, but it wouldn’t be connected to the rest of the mainland until the Haowhenua earthquake around 1460. “The soil is good, being a loam; vegetation flourishes and is not stunted in growth; water soon flows off it,” Tara is recorded as saying.

The expedition ventured onwards around the south coast, then towards Porirua, another site of interest. “The entrance to the harbour is a good one, but it is not a desirable place for a few people to settle at, it can be safely occupied only by a numerous folk,” Tara reported. 

They continued north along the Kāpiti coast to the mouth of the Rangitīkei River, where they turned their waka inland. They followed the river through gorges, valleys and rapids for more than 200km. Eventually, the river was no longer navigable. The last part of their journey would have to be completed on foot. The 60 men marched through the desolate plains of Tongariro, to the replenished valley of Taupō, and finally back east, across the Titiokura summit and following the rivers back to Māhia. 

When they finally returned home, Whātonga rejoiced at seeing his sons again and quizzed them about the places they had seen, asking detailed questions about rainfall, soil conditions and geography. Finally, he asked Tara where he thought was the most desirable land to settle. Tara responded: “At the very nostrils of the island”, referring to Wellington harbour.

They quickly made plans to claim the land. In the month of Akaaka-nui (roughly equivalent to December), as the clouds cleared away and the sun warmed the seas, Tara launched a fleet of waka. Tautoki and Whātonga joined him, along with 200 settlers who would make Wellington their new home. 

The waka stopped at Rangiwhakaoma/Castle Point and Wairarapa to gather food on its journey before finally arriving in Wellington harbour. Tara’s wife, Te Umu-roimata, urged him, “You should give your name to the harbour”. Tara agreed, and it was named Te Whanganui a Tara. 

The settlers first landed at Matiu/Somes Island, which, for a few months, was Wellington’s cradle of civilisation. Thy planted crops of kūmara and tree ferns and built three houses named Haeremoana, Te pū o te tonga, and Aotearoa. 

While they were camped on Matiu, Whātonga divided the people in half. One hundred were assigned to Tara and would become the first ancestors of Ngāi Tara. The other one hundred were assigned to Tautoki and would become Rangitāne. The two peoples seemed to have lived in the harbour together for a while, but Rangitane later moved to outlying areas in the Wairarapa and Manawatu. 

By the month of Ihonui (February), the settlement was starting to get established, and Whātonga made plans to return home to Māhia. Before he left, he took Tara and a small crew out to inspect the islands of Kāpiti, Mana, and the yet-unnamed island that would become Miramar, looking for good locations to build a permanent settlement. Near a spring on a hill overlooking Worser Bay, Whātonga thrust his staff into the ground, marking the future site of a fortified pā. There is nothing marking the pā site today, but it seems to have been located roughly at the site of Worser Bay School, between Seatoun Heights Road and Marine Parade. 

The pā was named Te Whetū Kairangi. The name was given because there were no other people living in the harbour; the only thing the villagers could see at night were stars (“whetū” means star, “kairangi” can mean exalted or high status). Miramar became known as Motu Kairangi, drawing its name from the pā. 

Te Whetū Kairangi was described as being in an exposed, accessible spot near cultivation grounds. It was completely enclosed by three layers of stockade fences, with one main entrance, and elevated towers on each side. There was a water spring at the hill’s summit, surrounded by stockades, and a protected path connecting the two. There were two large houses built inside the pā: Raukawa and Whare-rangi. 

Te Umu-roimata advised her husband to build three more pā to serve as lookouts to help protect Te Whetu Kairangi. The three pā were built along Te Ranga a Hiwi, the ridgeline extending from Mount Victoria to the south coast. They were named: Te Wai-hirere, at the northern tip of Oriental Bay, Te Akatarewa, at the summit of Mount Alfred above Wellington College, and Uruhau, on the eastern side of Island Bay.

The battle of Te Whanganui a Tara

The oral history recited by Moihi Te Mātorohanga suggests this battle happened during Tara’s lifetime. According to Muaūpoko whakapapa advisor Mark Moses, it is more likely that it happened in the 1600s, when the settlement was more developed and had a larger population. 

Kauhika woke up with a start. She felt a cold sweat, her hands clamming up. The old woman lived at Wai-hirere pā and had a history of vivid dreams that tended to come true. That night, she had a vision of the opposite hills, above Kaiwharawhara, occupied by strange men, staring down at the fires of the local villages.  She ran to wake her nephew, the chief Te Rangi Kaikore, to tell him what she had seen. He acted quickly and sent two scouts to investigate, who confirmed Kauhika’s vision was real; there were invaders camped on the hill. 

Why were these men here? It’s not entirely clear. “This part of the story I did not thoroughly acquire,” Best wrote. The invaders were Muaūpoko (confusingly, the same iwi with which Ngāi Tara is now affiliated). Te Mātorohanga’s oral history suggests Chief Te Kopura was attacked by Ngāti Rangi at Otaki and wanted utu, but for some reason, the way party changed its plans and targeted Ngāi Tara instead. Muaūpoko whakapapa advisor Mark Moses believes it was Ngāti Ira who was responsible for the attack at Otaki and whom Te Kopura wanted revenge against. This seems to make more sense, as the Ngāti Ira was known to be living in Te Whanganui a Tara at the time and had a close relationship with Ngāi Tara. 

After landing four war canoes in Porirua, the Muaūpoko invaders marched over the hills towards Wellington. Te Rangi-kai-kore sent his scouts to warn the other pā to prepare for an attack and send the children across the channel to Te Whetū Kairangi, where they would be safe.

The invaders descended the hill and advanced along the beach that is now Lambton Quay. After reaching Te Aro, they turned right towards Island Bay.

In the early hours of the morning, the people from the other two pā quietly made their way towards Uruhau to act as reinforcements. Quietly, the people of Uruhau left their pā, sneaking into the forest to plan a surprise attack. 

The invaders surrounded the pā on two sides, half from the ridgeline and half from Island Bay beach. Little did they know, there was no one inside. From behind them, Uruhau chief Pakau shouted, “Charge! Charge!”. The local warriors rushed out of their hiding places towards the beach, in far greater numbers than the invaders expected. They killed several Muaūpoko in a skirmish on the beach. Others fled into the forest or attempted to escape around the coast. Two of the invading chiefs were killed at Waitaha Cove, and their bodies were burned near Houghton Bay. 

After that, the locals dug up their remaining food supplies, boarded their waka, and retreated across the channel to Te Whetū Kairangi. There, they waited, preparing for the inevitable siege. 

The next morning, the Muaūpoko invaders burned the three mainland pā and prepared rafts to paddle across the channel to Motu Kairangi. After the crossing, they gathered their men and surrounded Te Whetū Kairangi pā on four sides, one hundred warriors on each side. They attacked the pā from the hill by rolling burning bundles of fern towards the wooden stockades. Ngāi Tara and Ngāti Ira defended the pā by launching kōtaha (whip spears) from elevated platforms inside the walls, killing seven men. 

After the first day of siege, the invaders camped out in the open. That night, a storm hit, with heavy rain and snow. Te Mātorohanga’s account mentions that the kowhai was in bloom, which suggests this happened in August or September. The Muaūpoko force was cold and wet. They had exhausted their supplies of dried kumara, and the stormy conditions meant they couldn’t dive for seafood. Tara knew this was the time to strike. “Grant them no rest; the fight has raged long, they will be wearied on account of their hunger and exposure to the storm,” he told his troops. 

In the morning light, heavy snow was still on the ground. Tara sent three men to challenge the enemy. By the time the invaders knew what was happening, six hundred more warriors spilt out of Te Whetū Kairangi, bombarding the cold and hungry enemy with overwhelming force. It was a bloodbath. Many Muaūpoko were slain as they fled back to their rafts. Others attempted to swim back across the channel only to drown or freeze to death. Around one hundred people died in total. 

What is the legacy of Tara today? 

Tara died, probably in the 14th century, and was buried in Wharekohu cave on Kāpiti Island, which became a sacred burial ground for generations of Ngāi Tara. In the years since his death, many others have made their homes in Te Whanganui a Tara. Ngai Tara inter-mingled and inter-married with other iwi, notably Ngāti Ira and Ngāti Kahungunu.

In the early 1800s, Ngāti Toa, Te Āti Awa, and others pushed south into Te Whanganui a Tara, causing many of the original inhabitants to leave for the Wairarapa and Manawatu. In 1839, the New Zealand Company’s William Wakefield showed up and “purchased” land in highly suspect conditions to establish the city of Wellington. That kicked off a boom of immigration from Britain and, later, the wider world. 

Most people living in Wellington now have no direct ancestral link to Tara, but his legacy is alive through place names. Aside from Te Whanganui a Tara, he is also referenced in the Tararua Range and Kāpiti Island, the full name of which is Te Waewae Kāpiti o Tara raua ko Rangitane/The meeting place of the boundaries of Tara and Rangitane. 

Di Rump is the chief executive of the Muaūpoko Tribal Authority. I asked her how Wellingtonians should remember Tara and what lessons or values we can take from his life. After consulting other kaumātua, she responded with the following. 

“From ancestors like Tara, we are encouraged through their example to embrace enduring values:

Perseverance: The courage to each and all take control of our own destiny and create new pathways. 

Whakapapa: The importance and the gift of knowing who we are and where we come from. 

Whanau: Knowing that anything is possible if done together, we stick together and always look out for each other. 

Responsibility: To each other and to the environment and the world and people around us.”

I asked Ray Ahipene-Mercer the same question. “I am a descendant of Tara’s. I can talk about his legacy. And part of that legacy is me taking those claims to the Waitangi Tribunal,” he said. In 1984, after learning about his whakapapa, he heard about Wellington City Council’s plans to dump the city’s sewage into the ocean from Moa Point, near ancient fishing grounds and wāhi tapu. “It was like rolling sewage over the Karori cemetery,” he said. He launched the Wellington Clean Water Campaign in 1984 and took a claim to the Waitangi Tribunal with the Māori Council of Wellington. In 1986, mayor Jim Belich promised to end the discharge of untreated sewage.

Today, there is a state-of-the-art sewage and sludge treatment plant at Moa Point. The water is clean. It’s a popular area for fishing and diving. That’s part of Tara’s legacy too, Ahipene-Mercer said. And he’s proud of the fact that the harbour still bears the name of his ancestor. Despite Wellington’s tumultuous history, the legacy of colonisation and the conflicting claims of mana whenua status, the name Te Whanganui a Tara remains. “You can’t erase history. You could burn that book, but you can’t take away what’s in here,” he said, pointing to his head. Then, to his heart: “And here”.