The King and Mere Takoko perform the hongi, a traditional Māori greeting, as Charles joined scientists, businesses and indigenous leaders to celebrate the launch of the Circular Bioeconomy Alliance at St James’s Palace in London. Photo / Eamonn McCormack/PA
The King and Mere Takoko perform the hongi, a traditional Māori greeting, as Charles joined scientists, businesses and indigenous leaders to celebrate the launch of the Circular Bioeconomy Alliance at St James’s Palace in London. Photo / Eamonn McCormack/PA
THREE KEY FACTS:
There are 76 species of odontocetes (toothed whales), which use teeth to hunt for prey, and 14 species of mysticetes (baleen whales), which use baleen plates to filter food from the water.
The Antarctic blue whale (Balaenoptera musculus ssp. Intermedia) is the biggest animal on the planet, weighing up to 181 tonnes (approximately 33 elephants) and reaching up to 30m in length.
A whale can hold its breath for about 60 minutes and the sperm whale 90 minutes.
Mere Takoko (Ngāti Porou, Te Whānau a Apanui, Rongowhakaata) is Chief Executive of Pacific Whale Fund
OPINION:
Picture this: me, standing in St James’ Palace, surrounded by British royalty, speaking about whales. Not as resources to be exploited, but as sentient beings deserving of legal personhood.
This was my reality just a few hours ago. I was there to share the story of “Te Mana o te Tohorā” – a legislative proposal meticulously crafted with legal experts at Simmons & Simmons and Ocean Vision Legal. As I presented this to a room full of dignitaries, I felt the weight of history, a history of reverence and exploitation.
The tohorā, the whale, is more than just a creature of the sea to me. It is an ancestor, a living embodiment of my whakapapa. I descend from Paikea, the legendary whale rider. This connection to tohorā has been passed down through generations.
But the story of whales in Aotearoa’s waters is a tale of two narratives. One of reverence, the other of brutal exploitation. European whalers, some who set sail from London, hunted them relentlessly. This painful history casts a long shadow.
Members of the Circular Bioeconomy Alliance met with King Charles at a function prior to the start of COP28 in Dubai last year. Photo / Mere Takoko
Yet, here I was, the first Indigenous Pacific ambassador to King Charles’ Circular Bioeconomy Alliance, speaking of reconciliation. A future where we recognise the interconnectedness of all living things, where we acknowledge the crucial role whales play in the health of our oceans. They are the engineers of our oceans, their migrations fertilising the waters, their massive bodies storing carbon. They are the keepers of ancient wisdom, their songs echoing through the depths.
Imagine a world where the law protects their right to life, their freedom, and a healthy ocean. This is the vision of the Te Mana o te Tohorā Bill, inspired by the legacy of the late Māori King Tūheitia. It calls for a guardianship model, where governments and communities collaborate to protect these magnificent creatures.
The Pacific Whale Fund, established to support the visionary leadership of our royal patrons, champions a cause that extends beyond the plight of whales alone. It’s about a fundamental shift in our relationship with the natural world. As our chairman Dr Ralph Chami says, we cannot thrive while our oceans suffer. For too long, we have plundered the ocean’s riches.
Standing in that grand palace, I realised something profound. While those walls may represent human notions of royalty, our planet is nature’s palace. And within it, all life deserves respect.
This is the journey we are embarking on. A journey from exploitation to respect. It’s a journey of reconciliation, of healing the wounds of the past and building a future where the songs of whales echo through healthy waters for generations to come.
