Karaka trees on Taranaki Street Wharf! They were planted by WCC in 1999 to bring to mind Māori people who had settlements in Te Whanganui a Tara long before Pākehā settlers arrived. The challenge for the Council design team was how best to represent pre-European history when no vestige of nearby Te Aro Pā was in evidence, the kāinga,  gardens and urupā had been taken over by the commercial development of Wellington. Many karaka orchards which had supplied berries and kernels, an important food source, were also lost.  

Brought south by Maori travellers over time, large orchards were observed in the Wellington region in the 19th Century near areas where Māori had settlements   Our Wellington South Coast had groves of Karaka which as well as a food source were also a navigational aid, their large, oval, shimmering leaves helping guide waka back to their fishing settlements along the coast. 

Karaka trees (carynocarpus laevigatus) grow to 15 metres high.  A lovely sight in summer when bearing golden berries, a pleasant aroma is present when fruiting.  The berry flesh is soft & edible when ripe, and the kernel holds protein and carbohydrate which can be stored and eaten after a long process of steeping in water and roasting.  Without careful preparation the kernels are toxic to humans and dogs. Birds, snared by Māori are drawn to the trees. Bell birds and bees feed on the small flowers in spring, kererū, tūī, kākā, lizards – and rats feed on the fruit (January – April). Karaka are used in rongoā ( Māori medicine); leaves applied to wounds. They hold a special place in Māori tradition, inspiring because of their ability to live in adverse conditions and withstand adversity. 

South Coast karaka trees still bear testament to the past. In June 2024, Barry Insull took me on a ‘white knuckle’ trip in his 4WD, charging through Devil’s Gate and onwards to Long Beach where the Karori Lighthouse was visible in the distance.  Barry is a volunteer for Capital Kiwi and the owner of a historic bach at Red Rocks. He knows the South Coast very well and has written a yet-to-be-published history of the area. The Wahine Storm of 1968 dealt a blow to the karaka trees but as people who are not so keen on them in their gardens know – they come back! Barry and I found masses of seedlings and a 150m long by 50m wide mass of karaka behind the Abigail Bay bach near the turn off to the Southern thread road. We sighted other smaller groups too, believed to be remnants of orchards planted by Māori in times long past. The trees themselves may not be those that grew from the seeds first sown but the result of the annual fall of fruit that creates multi-generational groves.

Ngāi Tara are the earliest recorded people to settle here permanently. Alexander Gordon states that archaeological work has found evidence of terraces, middens and karaka groves. Small settlements have come and gone from the South Coast for over 7 centuries.  

Pā sites have been identified and listed as Wahi Tapu: Taumata-Pātītī, further west Te Waikomaru near the Mangarara Stream and Makure-rua pā which stood above Rimurapa/ Sinclair Head with useful defensive views over Cook Strait. Vast areas of karaka on the south-western Wellington coast around 1890 are noted by archaeologist Peter Beckett including a grove near Pariwhero (Red Rocks) covering about a quarter of an acre and another of 15 acres. “They were a mass of gold fruit – a sight never to be forgotten.”

Not always euorocentric in their outlook earlier Pākehā noted karaka trees as did Katherine Mansfield in this excerpt from The Garden  Party  published 1922: 

“so lovely, with their broad, gleaming leaves, and their clusters of yellow fruit. They were like trees you imagined growing on a desert island, proud, solitary, lifting their leaves and fruits to the sun in a kind of silent splendor.” 

 The grove on Taranaki Street Wharf reminds us of people who depended on the tree as a food source and valued them for their cultural significance. 

The karaka groves endure on our south coast are listed in the District Plan for those who venture there to ponder their endurance and meaning. They testify to settlements no longer visible. they are a living heritage.