Pania of the Reef was unveiled by Prime Minister Sidney Holland in 1954. Her fame has grown ever since. Photo / Warren Buckland
Michael Fowler is a Hawke’s Bay writer and historian mfhistory@gmail.com
The Right Rev Frederick Augustus Bennett, the first Bishop of Aotearoa and the first Māori bishop, met members of the Hastings Historical Society and Napier Thirty Thousand Club in October 1936 for a guided tour of Napier’s Māori history.
Bennett was born in Ōhinemutu, Rotorua, in 1871 and arrived in Hawke’s Bay in 1917, based first at Waipatu Marae.
Despite not growing up here, he had gleaned much local Māori history from kōrero and was about to impart it to his Pākehā male guests and one female – May Cottrell, wife of Thirty Thousand Club member Horace.
When Bennett told the story of Pania of the Reef – then widely known to Māori but not to Pākehā – May Cottrell hung on every word.
His kōrero told of a beautiful Māori lady, a daughter of the sea people, who fell in love with Karitoki, the handsome son of a chief on the land where Napier now sits.
The pair pledged their lives to each other and were secretly married, but Pania was called back to the ocean by the sirens of the sea each morning. She promised to return to Karitoki every evening and their marriage continued on that basis.
Karitoki boasted to his friends about his beautiful wife, but no one believed him because they had never seen her. Frustrated, Karitoki consulted a kaumātua, who told him Pania would not be allowed to return to the sea if she swallowed cooked food.
That night, as Pania slept, Karitoki took a morsel of cooked food and put it in Pania’s mouth. As he did so, Ruru the morepork called a loud warning and Pania awoke. She fled to the sea, where her people came to the surface and drew her down into the depths. Pania was transformed into the reef off Napier that today bears her name.
When people now look deep into the water over the reef, some say they can see Pania with arms outstretched, appealing to her former lover.
The sea off Napier is now protected by Moremore, the son of Pania and Karitoki. He is the kaitiaki (guardian) of the area, a taniwha who often disguises himself as a shark, stingray or octopus.
Inspired by this kōrero, May Cottrell wrote a poem about the love story of Pania and Karitoki.
This was published in England, the United States, Australia and, of course, New Zealand.
There was also a short story version that was published in Australian and New Zealand magazines.
This created widespread interest in Pania of the Reef, and the Thirty Thousand Club decided to present a sculpture of Pania to the city of Napier. There was then no Māori representation on Marine Parade.
After World War II, the Thirty Thousand Club began to plan a sculpture. The first requirement was to find a suitable model to represent Pania.
Mei Irihapiti Robin of Kohupātiki had begun the third form (year 7) in 1951 at Hukarere school on Mataruahou (Napier Hill), and she takes up the story of how she was chosen to be the model for Pania.
“Principal of Hukarere school, Miss I L Hunter, had announced all the girls were to go to the school’s tennis courts.
“All 130 of us went to the tennis courts and there were all these Pākehā men present – I cannot remember any women.
“These, I found out, were members of the Thirty Thousand Club and they selected four girls as possible models for Pania of the Reef.
“We went to Hurst’s photography studio in Emerson St and posed on cardboard to represent a rock, and wore a traditional Māori dress.”
Mei was chosen from the photographs (in which she points out she was wearing a bodice). The fact she was the only Ngāti Kahungunu girl among the four may have given her the edge.
“Pania”, she states proudly, “was a real person ... and her whakapapa exists.”
The sculpture, funded by the Thirty Thousand Club, was to be done in Carrara, Italy.
“The sculptors” said Mei, “were the same people that did the statute of the little mermaid in Copenhagen.
“The mermaid statute was a nude one and the sculptors were going to the same for Pania.”
Mei’s grandfather was respected Māori leader Ike Robin of Kohupātiki, and he intervened – it would not be a nude sculpture.
Along with photographs of Mei, a huia feather to adorn Pania’s head, piu piu (skirt) and a tiki (a copy of the original) were also sent to Italy (and returned safely).
The sculptor first created the form of Pania in clay, and then she was dressed in the piu piu, huia feather and tiki.
Photos of the progress of the clay sculpture were sent back to New Zealand for approval by the Thirty Thousand Club.
Pania was then set in plaster of Paris and sent to the foundry to be cast in bronze.
Three years after Mei was selected, the sculpture of Pania arrived in Napier for the unveiling in June 1954.
Mei recalls: “I was told the unveiling would be a low-key affair and Miss Hunter, the principal, did not allow my grandfather [Ike] and Nanny [Mei] to attend.”
Surrounded by the whole of Hukarere school, she was surprised to see Prime Minister Sidney Holland, turn up to unveil Pania. The mayor of Napier, Ron Spriggs, was also there.
Mei was disappointed her whānau could not attend, given the unveiling was “anything but low-key”.
Local radio station 2YZ wanted to interview Mei about her involvement later that week. “Miss Hunter told me to change my name when I went on the radio. I asked why. She told me that it would be best if I didn’t get any recognition, so my name was changed to Hine Kohupātiki.”
When Mei left Hukarere, she went to Wellington to be a dental nurse.
She married Wirangi (Bill) Wiremu Whaitiri, a returned serviceman (Korea, Borneo and Malaya). He worked in Gisborne for Māori Affairs and then at Kaiti, before becoming a meat inspector at Whakatū. When Whakatū closed in 1986, Bill turned to teaching at Karamu High School in 1988, after graduating from the first Te Ataakura total immersion Māori course from Palmerston North Teachers’ Training College.
Mei and Bill would have five children: Joanne, Robert, Dion, Meka and Jason.
Mei’s life and the statute of Pania would become intrinsically linked.
Any event that occurred to Pania affected Mei – to her, Pania was more than an inanimate sculpture fashioned out of clay. Mei could feel the wairua (spirit) of Pania – and she wasn’t the only one in Māoridom.
When the sculpture was shot in 1982, Mei was at the Whakatū freezing works. The press, unable to contact her, rang her mother for comment.
A public outcry resulted from the vandalism of the sculpture but police could not identify who had fired at it.
Repairs were completed by Mark Leask, a fitter in the council’s engineering department, who drilled out the two holes caused by the bullet entering and leaving Pania’s head and inserted bronze plugs, which were chemically aged to blend with the rest of the statute.
In October 2005, Pania was kidnapped. The three bolts holding her to her limestone rock pedestal were loosened and she was dragged into a waiting car.
Mei’s sister rang her up and told her: “Pania has been stolen.” “Well, at least it’s insured,” said Mei, thinking she was referring to her husband’s Ford Falcon, with the number plate Pania 1. “No,” said her sister, “it’s Pania of the Reef.”
“The whole Napier community was in an uproar,” remembers Mei.
When Joe Northover, kaumātua for the Napier police, called the Whaitiri family home on Saturday, November 5, 2005, he told Bill that Pania had been recovered and Mei could go and see her.
Arriving at the police station, Mei threw her arms around Pania (now at ground level) and shed tears. She believes Pania also shed a tear on their reunion.
There was a silver lining to the theft. When Pania was restored to her limestone plinth, mayor Barbara Arnott let the whānau do what they wanted back in 1954 – and so Pania was draped in a traditional Māori cloak.
And unlike 1954, Mei had her whānau with her (though her grandparents had died by then) to see Pania restored to her rightful place, gazing out to her reef.
Michael Fowler will be giving a talk at 5.30pm at the MTG Century Theatre on Thursday, July 11, called “Eskdale’s History: An Illustrated Talk”.
Book at https://store.mtghawkesbay.com $20
All proceeds to the MTG Foundation for the new archive and storage facility in Hastings.
Trevor Flood was being treated for cancer when he suffered a significant brain injury.