FROM A TO B: AUCKLAND TO TROUSON KAURI PARK
Sea-faring peoples of the South Pacific were the first to navigate by the stars, and their ancient skill is still passed down from generation to generation in places like Micronesia to this day. It is my life’s work to study the voyages undertaken by those who set out to sea in canoes, without maps or compasses, unable to even see the distant islands they were aiming for.
Without large and sturdy trees, the canoes that transported people across oceans could never have been made. Such trees were the products of dynamic and healthy forest systems, fed by rainwater that was absorbed in the Earth and flowed back to the sea in rivers. The sea, in turn, served as a bridge to other lands, and the canoes carried their navigators to new forests, from which new vessels were made.
The innumerable islands of the South Pacific were once heavily forested, and there was no shortage of giant trees for sea-fearing canoes. Sadly, reckless and short-sighted logging practices have led to the devastation of woodland areas, and as a result islanders are only making traditional canoes when large pieces of driftwood happen to wash ashore. As is evidenced by the dying art of canoe-making, the loss of the South Pacific’s island forests threatens an exceptional cultural inheritance.
The desire to see with my own eyes what remains of the region’s forests only grew stronger as I continued to research ancient marine navigation. Giant canoes large enough to transport several families were first built in the 10th century in the Polynesia Triangle, an area that includes Hawaii, New Zealand, and Easter Island. Today, however, most of the islands are heavily trafficked by tourists, and in terms of natural resources they have become mere shadows of what they once were.
On my search throughout the islands of the Polynesia Triangle I came at last to the virgin forests of New Zealand’s North Island, located at the region’s southernmost point. In all of Polynesia, it is only within the patchwork of these remaining forests that trees are still found in great enough quantity for islanders to continue building traditional canoes. The forests of North Island are inextricably entwined with the history and culture of the Maori, New Zealand’s indigenous sea-faring people, who consider them sacred places.
When you enter the forests of North Island, you are assaulted by the sense that you have no idea which direction you are facing. The word “void” takes on its true meaning, and one realizes that the spirit of the vast sea, the past and future of the islands, and the canoes that bind one to the other will survive as long as these ageless forests continue to exist.
This article originally appeared in Paper Sky Issue 12 (Texas, Mexico: Diaries of the Tex Mex Borderland. Winter, 2005) and was made possible with New Zealand Tourism and Air New Zealand, located at 16F, The Imperial Hotel Tower
1-1-1 Uchisaiwaicho, Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo 100-0011.
About the author:
Naoki Ishikawa was born in Tokyo in 1977. He began his wanderings in India as a high school student. In 2000, he traveled from the North Pole to the South Pole while participating in the Pole to Pole project. In 2001, he climbed the highest mountains on all seven continents. Currently, he is studying traditional navigation techniques of Micronesia. Ishikawa tried to cross the Pacific Ocean in a hot air balloon in 2004, but abandoned the attempt 1,600 kilometers from Japan. His published works included the book, “To Those Who Will Inherit the Earth” and a photography collection, “The Wind that Connects the Polar Regions.” His first book of photography, “The Void” was published by Knee High Media. For Papersky Issue 28 (New Zealand, 2009) Naoki Ishikawa was our guest navigator.
