Ruatoria rallies to reach cut-off, isolated whanau, when Cyclone Gabrielle ruptures State Highway 35, their lifeline. Video / Kim Webby
When Cyclone Gabrielle hit New Zealand, it left a mark on us beyond the physical destruction. In this series of short films, made with the support of NZ On Air, four directors confront the deeper impact on four of our worst-affected communities - Esk Valley in Hawke’s Bay, State Highway 35 around East Cape, and Muriwai and Te Henga/Bethells Beach on Auckland’s West Coast.
Filmmaker Kim Webby says it’s only right that Hawke’s Bay and Gisborne got all of the publicity after Cyclone Gabrielle.
But she couldn’t help thinking about the people on the other side of Tokomaru Bay on East Cape’s main road, SH35.
“I knew it would have been equally damaged but because the bridge at Tokomaru Bay was taken out it wasn’t easy to get to,” said Webby.
It was a 250km journey down SH35 for the former TVNZ reporter from her hometown of Opotiki to Ruatoria, where she did the majority of her filming.
“I feel like that part of the country often gets missed out because they are so isolated and hard to get to but also because they tend not to stand up and complain. They are quite adept at looking after themselves because of years of having to do so.”
Webby paid credit to the strength of the people residing in Ruatoria, saying they were “making the best of it”.
Director Kim Webby interviews Ruatoria Pies' Bobbi Morice and Pakanui Webb in their empty pie factory. Photo / Supplied
“Getting to Gisborne, which is their main hub for shopping and everything, is going to be really hard for them because the roads are going to take a long time to be fixed.”
Webby says she feels for businesses like Ruatoria Pies and local tradespeople, because their businesses will be disrupted for months, if not years.
The most emotional and overwhelming part of filming for her was to see the community band together and help each other out.
“I know at the end when I was trying to sum up, I did get quite emotional and overwhelmed about the strength of the people there, their fortitude, how much they were able to withstand and the power of that community coming together so strongly,” she said.
She credits that to the predominantly Māori-populated community.
“Part of me thinks it’s a Māori community thing because they’re so used to pulling together at the marae and there are systems already in place. It was kind of just a bigger and longer experience of doing that,” Webby said.
The "SH 35 crew'- From left; DOP Jake Mokomoko., director Kim Webby, and sound producer Norman Mann. Photo / Supplied
Her short film ends with her crewmates, Jake Mokomoko and Norman Mann, sharing their thoughts on the experience.
She said the crew had no idea what to expect but were amazed at how the community came together.
“Jake and Norm were as fully involved as I was in the process and within a day we were talking about how incredible that community was and how much respect we had for them and what they were doing.”
In her own words - Lifeline director Kim Webby
A road trip down State Highway 35 is one of my favourite journeys. This iconic, link between my hometown Ōpōtiki and Gisborne meanders through Māori heartland Aotearoa.
Spanning four tribal areas, it visits places where life is lived Māori every day.
Cyclone Gabrielle broke State Highway 35 in two about 65 kilometres north of Gisborne. The carnage of slash, broken bridges and roads around Tokomaru Bay is well known.
I decided to travel the other way down SH 35, from Ōpōtiki as far as I could go and base myself at Ruātoria. I felt as though the news had overlooked Ruātoria and surrounds, and I knew people there.
Waiapu Civil Defence volunteer Lorne Goldsmith-Boyce with 'Lifeline' director Kim Webby and DOP Jake Mokomoko. Photo / Supplied
There was another reason for going. Cyclone Gabrielle was supposed to hit Ōpōtiki and the East Coast near Gisborne. Ōpōtiki heeded the warnings.
The army came and evacuated people, vulnerable coastal communities and marae and the college stood up evacuation centres. Council, Civil Defence and iwi pulled together to keep us safe.
But Gabrielle merely flicked us with her tail as she raced on to wreak havoc further south. I felt grateful and also guilty because we were ready and safe, but Hawkes Bay was not and people died.
Ruatōria’s remote valleys were also devastated and although no lives were lost due to early evacuations, people’s lives remain severely affected and will be for months to come.
Waiapu Civil Defence volunteers check the road to Whareponga to see if its wide enough for the Canams to cross with deliveries for residents. Photo / Supplied
The crew, Jake Mokomoko, Norm Mann and I arrived in Ruatōria just in time to go on a mission with Monty, Bruce and Lorne, all Civil Defence volunteers who’d been on the job up to 16 hours a day for 20 days.
In Canams, little four-wheel drive buggies, we traversed creeks where roads once were, got briefly stuck in the mud, and crossed a stretch of road undercut on both sides by floodwaters. It was only just wide enough for the small Canams to pass.
At Whareponga, we met Tatai Ngārimu, the nephew of war hero Moana-nui-a-Kiwa Ngārimu VC.
On the road, we’d passed Tatai’s two sisters walking a 14-kilometre return journey, to check on their brother and other whanau. They don’t expect to get their cars along this road for at least two months.
Ruatoria Pies' Pakanui Webb (left) and Bobbi Morice (right) on the damaged bridge near their Ruatoria home. Photo / Supplied
The CD team replaced a broken electricity generator and delivered fresh food.
Tatai and his whanau had been eating the leaves off their kumara plants for fresh vegetables. They worry about the future of their kaimoana, with silt covering all their fishing spots and kina places.
But they’re not really worried about themselves. Every person I spoke with over two days expressed their aroha and concern for the people worse off than them, down south.
My journey down SH 35 was an encounter with rangatiratanga, what it looks like when Māori use their generational wisdom, cultural practices such as manaakitanga and the structured mahi born of marae work, to lead and help one another.
But their independence does not mean central and local government can turn away. As one local said, they worry they will be forgotten. They have been in the past.
