KEY POINTS:
"Wicked office, eh," says Neville Walker, as he powers his jet boat along the blue-green waters of the Motu River.
The former SAS officer has jet-boated the Motu's lower reaches all his life and for the last seven years has taken tourists on the ride.
He ventures 20km inland and says the power of the eastern Bay of Plenty river is awesome. "When this baby rocks, she rocks."
Flowing through deep gorges surrounded by mountains covered in native bush, the "Mighty Motu" stretches 110km from the coast between Opotiki and Te Kaha, to the Waioeka Gorge, northwest of Gisborne.
It is renowned for untouched scenery, abundant fishing and hunting, and fearsome rapids during a 487m drop from source to mouth.
Mr Walker picks up the few rafters and kayakers brave enough to tackle the wild water. He recently saw a group flipped by the final "helicopter rapid" - which he found scary just to watch.
The Herald lacked the time - and courage - to raft the otherwise inaccessible gorges at the Motu's heart, but heard about the experience first-hand from Paul Cornwall, who lives at the upper end of the river, in Motu township, and is brave enough to raft it every year.
Mr Cornwall and his group of hardy friends do the trip in three days when the river runs at 10cu m, but have attempted it at 30cu m.
"The rapids ceased to be rapids," he said. "They became humping big troughs."
We met the 54-year-old at Motu School, where he is sole teacher and principal.
Established in 1895, when the township was a hub of colonial activity, the school sits in a lush green valley which the river meanders lazily through. An abandoned railway bridge stands in a nearby paddock, no longer spanning the river, but testament to its gradually altering course.
The area was milled extensively in the late 19th and early 20th centuries and the timber transported out via Motu, then on the main route north.
The township was also an escape from the Gisborne heat for settlers, who flocked to a grand wooden hotel and punted on the gentle water near the township.
For the children now at Motu School, the river remains a focus, featuring in outdoor murals and conservation efforts.
The schoolchildren plan to tag native eels to help the Department of Conservation learn more about the creatures, which swallow whole ducks and pigeons, and, according to Mr Cornwall, once chased Navy divers out of the river.
Five kilometres from Motu are the Motu Falls, 9m of gushing white water hinting at the river's force further downstream. The falls are part of Whinray Reserve, a 429ha block that settler James Whinray drew in a ballot but chose not to clear, leaving virgin forest rich in matai, rimu, kahikatea and other trees.
The reserve is the only one where both North Island weka and brown kiwi are found, and locals are involved in efforts to save these and other threatened species.
A large swing-bridge crosses the river at the falls, leading to a walking track lined with punga and views of majestic trees above the canopy.
Beyond the falls, the road reduces to a four-wheel-drive track, then stops, a sign warning: "This river is dangerous. For your safety you must take food and equipment for eight days".
We retreat back to Matawai, the closest settlement to the source of the Motu, on State Highway 2. Matawai is home to the historic Matawai Hotel, which is one-third of the grand Motu Hotel, built in 1889 and shifted up the valley in 1932. The remainder was moved to Ormond, near Gisborne.
The Matawai portion, which is filled with old photographs and, some say, ghosts, was moved about the time the main road between Gisborne and Opotiki was shifted west through the township, away from Motu.
Descendants of early settlers still live in the town, including Winston Hustler, who with wife Raewyn, runs homestays in a quaint red-and-white gabled building.
In the past, it was a general store, tearooms, post office and bank, and a clinic for a "defrocked doctor who pulled teeth".
At its peak, Matawai had a population of 3000, but now numbers less than 50.
"It's in a time warp, but we're quite happy about that," Mrs Hustler said.
Many of the Hustlers' guests are overseas visitors, lured by the prospect of catching Motu River brown trout.
Welsh lawyer Mike Jeffreys caught three in his first hour, but was happy just to stand and flick his rod in the picturesque surrounds for the next attempt.
"This is really something," he said. "It wouldn't matter if I caught no fish."
As penance for not seeing the river's inner reaches, we took the Old Motu Coach Rd to the coast. The winding 43km route proved an adventure, the sheer drops and countless slips testing the nerves. One flat tyre later, we arrived at the coast, and before long, rounded the corner to where the Motu meets the sea.
The river is sacred to the Apanui iwi for the kahawai, whitebait, eels and other food it provides. "We call this our cupboard," said Neville Walker, who is from the Rutaia hapu and, like many others, hunts pig, deer and goats.
Mr Walker points out an ancient pa site as he deftly guides the jetboat up the river, at times negotiating water only centimetres deep.
There is not a soul in sight and the trip is slow, allowing those aboard to take in the spectacular bush-clad mountains and cliffs.
But when the boat swings round, the pace changes and it is full throttle back to Motu Bridge.
The exhilarating ride ends with a spin into shore, where we farewell the Mighty Motu and scenery seemingly unchanged since dinosaurs roamed the Earth.
