Napier orca a pod of big ‘fish’ in a small pond – Editorial
It was a scene not unlike Jaws’ famous fictional Amity Beach – no one dared go into the briny.
Napier’s waka ama paddlers, swimmers, kayakers and fishers were all asked to stay out of the water.
A month out from Christmas, hundreds lined the city’s Pandora Pond to see four orca – an adult and three calves – put on a mighty show.
They were viewed from the safety of the shore, but there was fear.
Fear because it was the first ever case of orca swimming into the Ahuriri estuary, which carried the risk of the pod being caught in its shallow low-tide waters.
A social media post early on that sunny Saturday morning sparked big interest in the cetaceans’ cameo.
The authorities were there, including Whale Watch Hawke’s Bay, the Department of Conservation (DoC), local iwi and environmental group Project Jonah.
Orca Research Trust, a non-profit founded by marine biologist Dr Ingrid Visser, said it had received a number of inquiries about the sightings.
Visser reminded everyone it was crucial that people remember the law – that they can’t swim with the orca, nor approach them closer than 50m.
She confirmed the orca were previously known to them.
“This is the first time they have been documented in Pandora Pond and that is exciting, but also concerning,” she said.
“They must be given space and no pressure so that they can safely exit the area when they are ready to do so.”
Those of us lucky to be there were treated to spectacular antics. Whether it was a hunting foray or simply a roadie through the estuary, few knew.
But we were anxious given how shallow the waters were – and how the four dwarfed their catchment.
If they weren’t mammals, they’d have literally been big fish in a small pond.
Maybe the local fear was heightened due to nearby Mahia Peninsula’s frequency of heartbreaking beachings.
The phenomenon of ocean mammals’ strandings remains one of marine science’s biggest mysteries. Theories vary from natural to human-caused navigational interference, magnetic anomalies, earthquakes and underwater volcanoes.
As DoC states, New Zealand is a “hotspot” for these tragedies.
Since 1840, more than 5000 whales and dolphins have stranded nationally.
The department responds to an average of 85 incidents a year, usually of single animals.
Back in Napier, at about 10.10am on that same superb day, the pod, sparked no doubt by a call from the adult, got up on their foils and made a beeline for the bridge back out to sea.
Everyone smiled, some applauded, some cheered, it had seemed a precarious thing.
A kuia, standing as one of many on a shore peppered with blood-red pōhutukawa, sang a karakia as the exiting fins cut towards the Pacific.
Those of us not familiar with te reo Māori had no idea what she was singing. But we sensed the sentiment.
Her outstretched arm pointed seaward as if to indicate a safe passage.
Perhaps she was singing something similar to Leonard Cohen when he crooned, “we are so lightly here”.