Earlier this year, Te Waipounamu iwi Kāi Tahu invited a group of its iwi members to join with Archaeology students from Otago University to take part in their first hands-on dig in Moeraki. Te Papa Host and Assistant Visitor Services Manager Robbie Titchener was on that dig and shares some of the experiences here.
Titiro whakamuri, whakarite ināianei hei hāngai whakamua.
Look to the past, so you can learn for the future.
On a Friday morning in mid-February, a group of kaitiaki from Kāi Tahu were about to meet someone who would change our lives. Dug. Dug was a source of much valuable information about our tīpuna and their lives, pre- and early-Contact.
Meet Dug
We were in Moeraki with a group of Archaeology students from Otago University, under the supervision of Gerard O’Regan, Anne Ford, Charles Radclyffe, and Rachel Wesley. The students were 400/500 level and, like us, most were taking part in their first hands-on dig. We were there at the invitation of Kāi Tahu to learn, to be involved and, from there, to share our new knowledge with our Rūnanga. As part of that, we were given the chance to excavate our very own hole. Of course, we were here to take it seriously, but we also weren’t going to take it that seriously, and so we named our trench Dug. (And the area around the trench was Dugless.)
The area had previously been a kainga and an early-Contact farming village, but was now the home of about a dozen cribs (baches for you North Islanders). The site itself was just above a beautiful red-golden beach, with a couple of hills which were former pā sites, a couple of harbours with a variety of kaimoana, a few urupā, and the occasional seal sunbathing on the rocks (or greeting us at the gate on the first two days).
Dug’s cunning protection scheme
However, the archaeology itself was at risk of erosion, as well as the huge numbers of rabbits. While we didn’t see many rabbits in the time that we were there, there were many, many rabbit holes. Watch where you walk.
At first glance, Dug did not look too promising; there was a rabbit-hole at each end, and what archaeology there was could well have been disturbed. But never judge a hole by first appearances. We would have to work hard to encourage Dug to give up its secrets, but if you respect your trench (give it a name), it will respect you.
In the first five minutes, I found … something. And it was something that, at first glance, no one was sure what it was. The working theory (at the time of writing) is that it is a handle of some sort, made of wood with clay around the outside. The mix of curiosity – huh, what’s that I’ve found – followed by the pride in finding something unusual is quite the buzz. Whatever it turns out to be, it was firm evidence that this was an early-Contact site. After five minutes, I was ready to retire as an archaeologist because I’d achieved all my goals. Trowel drop. And done, thank you very much.
Dug’s got layers
But no, Dug had more to give us. There was more work to do: digging, sifting, recording the levels, and bagging the finds. Then repeat for each layer (or “context” for us professionals). Most of the finds were associated with the midden site that had been there – fish bones, mainly, and some seal bones, but also a dog mandible and scapula, some flakes from stone tool-making, and lots of fire-cracked rocks.
All pretty much as expected, but just when you think you understand Dug, something changes. We also found some tūhua and rangitoto; both volcanic rocks, which, considering Te Waipounamu has not had any active volcanoes for millions of years, are probably (but not necessarily) signs of trade. We found a flake of tangiwai (a type of pounamu), possibly a sign of tool-making.
Then, on the third day, Dug gave us a Queen Victoria 1854 penny. Originally minted in Great Britain, it would have had to have travelled to New Zealand, been given to whoever would drop it on the midden site, and then lain there, lost and forgotten for over 100 years until Dug was ready to give up the secret.
Dug’s legacy, can you dig it?
The final analysis is on-going, as going through a few kilograms of beach and sorting it into its component parts – shells, fish bones, animal bones, fire-cracked rocks, charcoal, lithics and the ubiquitous pebbles – is a long and slow process, and the final conclusion is still to be delivered, but for those five days (give or take two hundred years), Dug was an intriguing and inspiring part of our lives.
Apart from the mahi itself, Dug also taught us that, while there are some legal complications with some aspects of archaeological work, for many rūnanga, it is just not a priority. If, for example, the area was about to be covered in a carpark, then the work would have to be done as part of any consent processes. Otherwise, there is a lack of funding (and possibly interest?) from marae and rūnanga to get the work done, and also some conflict about who is responsible.
If we want to connect with our tīpuna, the opportunity to walk where they walked and to hold objects they held and used, then archaeology is one of the best ways to do so. If we want to protect our wāhi tīpuna, then we also need to know where they are, we need to understand them, and to be blunt, we need to be able to produce evidence in the Courts to say “this is our whenua”.
Acknowledgements
Finally, I want to mihi to everyone at the site: to my fellow kaitiaki, it was a pleasure to meet you and work with you; to the supervisors – including the demonstrators, Renée, Pio, and Marie; and to the students who are the future. Thank you for all your advice, your knowledge, and your time. And, of course, huge thanks to Dug. You were amazing.
