After two hours the coach arrived at Te Wairoa, a “very pretty village” composed of a smattering of buildings. There were two hotels, the Rotomahana, “a commodious and substantial hostelry” owned by Joseph McRae and the Terrace, owned by Charles Humphries, plus the Snow Temperance Hall and three stores.
Circling the buildings were “the whares of the Māori village” which extended as far down as an old, dilapidated flour mill. Guide Sophia’s house, which had a steep roof and thick walls, stood “back from the road about 500 yards (457 metres) from McRaes”.
Nearer to Lake Rotomahana stood the schoolhouse “in the midst of a well-cultivated garden, where English flowers and vegetables flourished”, occupied by the Haszard family. Close to the schoolhouse was Te Mu chapel, a very “old ivy clad Episcopalian Mission Church”.
The group booked into the “old but well-kept” Terrace Hotel, where the “comfort of tourists is studied”. Early the next morning, after breakfast, the excited group met Te Paea Hinerangi (Sophia), principal guide of the terraces. Well educated, and bilingual, Sophia had established a reputation as an exceptional guide, as well as being a “philosopher and friend” to thousands of tourists.
At Lake Rotomahana the group clambered aboard a boat and set off with eight “strong” Māori rowing and Sophia steering. For two hours, under extremely choppy conditions, the men rowed, stopping en route at a small inlet to collect kōura (freshwater crayfish) which would later be cooked for lunch in a hot pool.
Suddenly the awe-inspiring sight of Te Tarata appeared – terrace upon terrace each over 100 feet high (approx. 31 metres), the lowest step having a curve of 200 yards (183 metres). The curves of each terrace lessened in length as the summit was reached. At the top was a boiling lake surrounded by hills covered in ferns. The lake was a vibrant blue, contrasting dramatically with the white coral hue of the terraces.
After leaving the White Terraces they visited “fearful mud ponds, huge geysers and the most awful Devil’s Hole”. Guide Sophia was astounded at the unusual sound erupting from the Devil’s Hole, something she had never heard before – it was “like the loud whirr of machinery with the clank of some heavy hammers”. From here the group travelled by waka for approximately seven minutes “over the hot waters of Rotomahana to the Pink Terrace”.
Shrouded in sulphurous steam, Ōtūkapuarangi suddenly appeared. The writer found it “impossible to give one’s first impression of this dream of loveliness”. The colour baffled description - a pink tinted from pure white through to salmon.
To reach the summit, the tourists ascended “rounded steps of smoothest glass” situated on the extreme left, “down which the stream of heated water from the cauldron continually flows”. To the right, the elongated terraces were as hard as flint with the finest, delicate lace-like edgings dripping from each rim. At the top was a body of boiling water – a “marvellous combination of colours” the water being “a deep wonderful blue” while along the edge of the rim lay an encrustation of yellow sulphur.
It required great courage to stand on the top terrace rim, which another writer described as a “treacherous edge of a mere thin cake of silica overhanging the cavernous abyss and you can mark the growth of siliceous masses, as of coral, arising from the depths below”.
The terraces themselves were of various heights, with natural breaks and rifts, the sides clothed with dense mānuka bush. Close to the summit tourists were encouraged to bathe, using “Nature’s dressing room” of mānuka to shield themselves. Bathers entered the lowest and coolest of the three basins, and as their bodies adjusted, would in turn ascend through to the second and finally the upmost which was the hottest. The process would then be reversed allowing the body to gradually cool down.
After experiencing all the “wonders” that the area offered, the group returned to the waka and were transported “down the stream of hot sulphur water” back to their boat.
Suddenly the weather changed – torrential rain fell and the “lake, which had risen a foot (a thing unknown in the memory of most Māori) was like a furious sea”. The group was fearful they would not return safely, but with each male occupant taking turns rowing and the group cheering them on, the boat was moored safely after a two-and-a-half-hour treacherous journey.
Shortly after 6pm, the coach left on its return journey to Rotorua. Lining the road along the way the native bush was ablaze with the twinkling lights of thousands of glow-worms. As a final entry before signing off our tired, yet slightly frazzled adventurer wrote: “I never had a more eventful and satisfactory trip, full of beauties”.
On behalf of everyone at MTG Hawke’s Bay Tai Ahuriri, we wish everyone a safe and happy holiday season.