Yet another great whānau activity was to toitoi tuna off the banks of the swamp, on a boat or on a specially built raft. Great stuff which began with:
• the gathering of noke – worms from the effluent piles from the cowshed and the neighbours ones or from the pā sites of my ancestors Hine Tapora and Uepohatu. There were springs there and that is what kept the worms readily available. Today I have heaps of noke in my compost heap but I don’t collect them like I used to do;
• get a couple of blades of flax (nanny always did this as we kids would cut them all wrong) and make some whītau;
• role the whītau into threads by running it along your thigh – it was especially appropriate as the eels had brush teeth which were easily ensnared in the whitau (flax fibres) and thus before they could get them out you would have them in the whakarino;
• poke the end of the whītau through a thin mānuka splint (or old straw broom) with a slit (like a needle) and sow the worms on to the whītau; and
• after you have about 12 threads of whītau worms you double them up and tied them to a supple yet firm piece of mānuka about 3 foot long. Great care was taken to ensure that the thin end of the mānuka stick was the junction of 2 branches. You cut the stick so that the junction was kept and this ensured your worms would not come off when you snared a whopper. As an extra measure, I personally wrapped cotton vertically around the noke to ensure no eels got away.
Apart from the karakia – nanny was the one who recited these literally from the time we left home to the time we arrived back home. She ensured we never heard what she was saying but it was there and part of her daily life. A sought of monotone quick tempo recitation which sounded like a karakia. Not enforced on me for example but I don’t know what my cousins experience was.
The other key piece of equipment was the whakarino – an ingenious creation combining the old and the new. The old was 2 long mānuka sticks about 5 foot long and some flax. These were the crucial components and elements of the Hauraki whānau engineering and construction enterprise. The next part were 2 empty flour bags which were unstitched on one side and sewn together with flax to make one larger bag. This was tied between the 2 sticks to form a rough square. All these sewing had to be eel proof and therefore were always a wrap and then the sewing so the wrap would not unfold.
In this bag were cut eyelets which were also hemmed and these let out the water and any small eels. To the base of this bag which tapered to a smaller outlet was sewn a sugar bag. The whakarino was then placed into the swamp or river or between 2 boats with the 2 sticks just above the water.
The poles held everything else and as you caught eels with the toetoe (worms) you put them in the whakarino. When it was time to go home the whakarino was pulled out of the water and the sugar bag top tied so the eels wouldn’t escape. For me and cousin Sam this was our entertainment and in the months September to December, provided our night out. That is right, the ER months were the eeling months.
Basically you would put you toetoe into the water down to about 2 foot. When you felt the eel tug, you would gradually pull your stick up so that when the eel tugged again it was hauled into the whakarino and the process repeated again. Nanny would always tell us to keep quiet and she would always have two lots of noke.
We also used hinaki and we would bait and put these in during the eeling months again. When I was about 5 years old I went to Te Rato (Waihirere Road, Wairoa) with Nanny to visit uncle Harry and aunty Bebe Ponga. My Nanny was Ngāti Kahungunu and every year she would make these pilgrimages back to Wairoa with all trips coinciding with the running of kai. In this case the pātiki and she would eat her fill and then we would go back to Ruatorea. On one of these visits to Wairoa Uncle Harry was making a new hīnaki out of number 8 wire and chicken mesh. His call was that they lasted longer than the traditional materials and so was a more economic option.
In the making of this hinaki and because I was quite small he put me in the hinaki frame to pass the wires etc back to him. He also did this for the internal and external wire mesh layers and yes you guessed it. I remembered what he did and I have made 2 hīinaki of my own with the last one being in 2006. I have the wire and the will to make some more but alas – not the time.
While our eeling excursions were mainly Nanny, cousin Sam and me, sometimes the whole Chambers whānau would come. This was great as it showed us working together and also having a good time – who had the biggest and most eel etc. The goal was always to get eel to eat with the value adds being the little competitions within that goal. Great occasions which normally happened on the factory creek which fed into Sandy Bay or at the swamp at home.
In the same way and mainly by using the raft (six 44 gallon drums tied together with number 8 wire and then a deck fastened on top with some gaps left to tie the whakarino in) on our swamp the Kirk, Te Kira, Nepe and Awatere whanau would come and do their eeling. Amazing really because they would have five or six eeling from the raft and the rest eeling from the shore with a huge fire burning behind them. A heater, light and navigation beacon. At the fire would be a copper or 2 in which their tuna was held until they were ready to go home.
We were the main whānau who eeled that side (west side) of the swamp although other Ruatorea whanau came as well. On the other side (east) there were the other Awatere whanau, the Kaiwai’s and McClutchies and no doubt other Reporua and Tūpāroa whanau. We all had our favourite places.
There was one main rule – you never bled the eel in the water as this was seen as a sign of driving the eels away. We never gaffed, hooked or speared eels. Always by hīnaki, whāwhā or toetoe.
The other eeling experiences that I remember were:
• the making of a pā tuna in the early 60’s and it was the last time I remembered one being done. It was raining and the swamp on our land started to swell. However and before it broke, we constructed a pā tuna made out of several mānuka poles about 8 foot long hit into the river bed together. Between them we laid mānuka brush which was tied down. There were two of these palisades of about 50 meters in length built on each side of the swamp mouth with a funnel entrance where they came together. The hinaki 2-3 on top of one another were tied to the funnel mouth of the pā tuna and as the eels flowed out on the beginning of their migration they were caught in the hinaki. As each filled we would empty them and throw out the small ones. We were only allowed one day at this fantastic activity and it was back to school. The tuna were mainly pawhara and smoked or fried, boiled, grilled in ashes etc. This was a fantastic occasion and as I said, it was the last one I knew was done. Much better than going to school; and
• catching eels down the old race course when the swamp was drained to make way for farming. It was murder actually as the water diminished the eels congregated in small pools swarming with them. We (Globe, Mita, Hepe and some of Tihi Awatere’s whanau and me) filled a bag up in no time but it was still murder – they had no way to escape. When some eels tried to escape overland and died, it was amazing to see the kāhu picking them up and carrying them away;
• me and the Te Puni’s rama tuna from the Waiapu river right up the Mākaraka stream to the swamp. This involved feeling for eels under the banks and then throwing them out and bagging them. Sometimes and where there was mud you would look very carefully for the eel’s holes. There would be two – one where the eel would enter and the other where the eels air bubbles would escape from. In these cases you would put one hand in the entrance hole and the other in the breathing hole which meant the eel was between both hands – this was done with a lot of stealth and once you felt the eel, you would dig your hands down and throw the eel out. The ones on the bank would then catch them and put them in the bag. Not only was it good fun it had a good outcome and we would spend a whole day doing this; and
• when setting the hinaki in running water the hinaki was set with the funnel downstream. This was done on the basis that the smell of the bait would go down water and attract the eels up stream and straight into the hīnaki. To be truthful sometimes this worked but invariably the eels would circle around the hīnaki and eventually worked their way into the funnel.
For all these methods there were three ways to clean the para off the eels. Hot water, sand or pungarehu. It was messy but was necessary and the eels were either boiled (yucky smell), fried (not too bad) or pawhara (boned, salted and peppered and smoked). In this case the larger eels were cleaned and hung on the line to dry. Once the skin was dried they were taken down and with a sharp but round bladed knife fillited like a fish and the backbone removed and the eel opened up flat. Salt and pepper were rubbed into the flesh and thin dried mānuka splints stuck into the flesh / skin to keep the eel open. Wool bail twine was used to be tied onto the splint nearest the tail of the eel and doubled over and hung on the line. This was usually a number 8 wire tied between 2 trees or strainer posts with a mānuka pole in the middle (forked tip) to whole the line up.
The engineering rationale with the manuka splints and wool bail twine is that:
• the former held the eel open as in the case of a fillet of fish; and
• the twine because the wind would blow and spin the eel and it would tighten up and when tight would unwind and spin the other way.
This kept the flies off the eel and allowed the eel to shed excess fat and at the same time dry the eel before smoking.
I still do this today.
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