Sunday, July 1, 2007

Phantom Of The Exploding Mountain

On May 31, 1886, a party of tourists had an eerie and foreboding experience while boating across Lake Tarawera, near the foot of Mount Tarawera, a seemingly extinct volcano on New Zealand’s North Island, on their way to the Rotomahana Terraces.

The Rotomahana Terraces were unique silica formations, each more than two hectares in size, which had been built up over countless centuries by silica crystals carried by the water from hot springs that welled up in the area. One pure white, the other coral pink, the Terraces descended the gentle slopes bordering Lake Rotomahana like an irregular flight of giant’s steps.

The tourists were relaxing during their boat ride when a large Maori war canoe, (the Maori’s are the original, native, inhabitants of New Zealand) paddled by a dozen muscular warriors, suddenly came into view some two kilometres away. For several minutes the entire party watched the canoe glide across the placid waters of the lake. Then, in the blink of an eye, while still a kilometre or so away, the canoe vanished. (Two eyewitnesses, Josiah Martin and a Roman Catholic priest, Father Kelleher, made sketches of the canoe and its occupants. A painting of the scene now hangs in the City Art Gallery at Auckland, New Zealand’s capital.)

The tourists’ bewilderment was heightened when they could get no information from their Maori crew about the mysterious canoe. Their half-caste guide Sophia, who spoke fluent English, was evasive. The oarsmen in the two whale-boats carrying the visitors were obviously uneasy. They muttered “Atua” (a spirit) and hung their heads.

But the Maoris became more vocal when the reached shore. Within minutes the word had spread through the settlement of Te Wairaa: “They’ve seen the phantom canoe!” The apparition of Waka-Wairua, the phantom canoe, was firmly embedded in the legends of the Tuhourangi tribe as a portent of death - although the canoe had never been seen within the memory of anyone then living in the district. Later that day, the tribal tohunga (priest), Tuhoto, reputed to be 104 years old, added a further prophecy: “It is a warning that this region will be overwhelmed.”

Eleven days later, in the early morning of June 10, 1886, Mount Tarawera, the seemingly extinct volcano erupted without the slightest warning. Within six hours, the European settlement of Te Wairoa and two Maori villages Te Ariki and Moura, together with most of their inhabitants, were buried under a rain of mud, and the Pink and White terraces of Lake Rotomahana, considered one of the tourist wonders of the world, vanished forever.


Because the country was so sparsely settled, the death toll from the Tarawera eruption was relatively small: 153 people. Apart from the rain of mud, volcanic ash fell on places up to 200 kms. away.

Today, more than one hundred and twenty years later, the once scarred and mud-covered countryside is again green and beautiful. But one cannot look at the brooding mountain without a shiver of dread - or cruise the lovely lakes in its shadow without being at least half-watchful for a heart-thumping glimpse of a phantom canoe…