Te Hī Ika: The Deep Connection Between Māori and Fishing
Traditional fishing, kaimoana, tikanga and the enduring relationship between Māori and the moana
For Māori, fishing has never simply been about catching something for dinner.
Te hī ika — fishing — sits within a much bigger relationship with the moana.
It is connected to whakapapa, food, travel, knowledge, community, tikanga and the natural world.
For generations, Māori developed sophisticated ways of understanding the sea: knowing where particular species could be found, recognising seasonal changes, constructing nets and traps from natural materials, reading environmental conditions and passing knowledge from one generation to the next.
But there was another dimension too.
The creatures of the sea were understood within a whakapapa that connected them to Tangaroa, and fishing was therefore surrounded by customs and practices designed to show respect for the source of the food being taken.
This meant that catching fish wasn't simply a technical exercise.
It was a relationship.
And that relationship remains important in Aotearoa today.
Tangaroa and the World Beneath the Waves
In Māori creation traditions, Tangaroa is associated with the sea and its creatures.
Te Ara explains that Tangaroa is regarded as the progenitor of fish, with different traditions describing the whakapapa of creatures that inhabit the ocean and land.
This gives fishing a very different context from simply viewing the ocean as a collection of resources.
The fish in the sea are part of a wider whakapapa.
The ocean is not empty space.
It is populated by life, relationships and histories.
That worldview helps explain why traditional fishing involved not only highly developed practical knowledge but also karakia, tikanga and restrictions around harvesting.
Te Ika-a-Māui: The Great Fish
Perhaps the most famous Māori fishing story is the story of Māui and Te Ika-a-Māui.
According to Māori traditions recorded by Te Ara, Māui used the jawbone of his grandmother Murirangawhenua as a hook and fished up the North Island.
The island became known as Te Ika-a-Māui — the fish of Māui.
Its geography was subsequently understood through the imagery of a fish, with places such as North Cape associated with the tail and Wellington with the head.
It's a powerful example of how fishing isn't merely an economic activity in Māori tradition.
Fishing stories can explain place itself.
The landscape becomes part of the story.
The sea becomes part of whakapapa.
And the act of fishing becomes woven into the identity of the land.
Māori Fishing Knowledge Was Highly Sophisticated
It can be easy to underestimate just how much knowledge was required to fish successfully before modern technology.
There were no GPS units.
No fish finders.
No weather apps.
No synthetic monofilament.
No modern fibreglass rods.
Yet Māori fishing technology was highly developed.
Traditional fishing involved different types of hooks, lines, nets, traps, spears and lures.
Nets could be constructed from harakeke fibre.
Crayfish could be caught using woven pots.
Different fishing methods were adapted to different species and environments.
This wasn't primitive technology.
It was technology developed specifically for Aotearoa.
Kupenga: The Māori Fishing Net
One particularly impressive example is the kupenga, or fishing net.
Māori constructed nets from plant fibres, including harakeke.
Some were enormous.
Te Ara records examples of large-scale fishing expeditions in which huge numbers of people worked together using sophisticated nets and canoes.
Constructing a large fishing net required enormous amounts of labour.
The fibres needed to be prepared.
The net needed to be constructed with appropriate mesh.
It had to be strong enough for its intended use.
And everyone involved needed to understand how the equipment worked.
A fishing net was therefore not simply an object.
It represented accumulated knowledge.
Fishing Grounds Had Names
Perhaps one of the most fascinating aspects of traditional Māori fishing was the detailed knowledge of particular fishing locations.
Fishing grounds, reefs, banks and rocks could have their own names.
These weren't necessarily obvious places that could simply be found by looking at a map.
Some were kilometres offshore.
Te Ara records the Ngāti Porou historian Rēweti Kōhere describing ancestral fishing grounds around the East Coast and explaining how fishermen used landmarks on shore to identify particular locations.
Imagine knowing your coastline so well that you could position a canoe offshore by aligning a particular headland with a mountain.
No coordinates.
No GPS.
Just accumulated knowledge.
Reading the Coast
This kind of knowledge was built from generations of observation.
A particular point of land.
A distinctive rock.
A reef.
A current.
A change in water colour.
The time of year.
The tides.
The weather.
The behaviour of birds.
The movement of fish.
All of these things could form part of an understanding of where and when to fish.
It is another example of what we've explored throughout The Wai-Tai Journal:
Māori knowledge of the moana was based on paying attention.
The Ocean Had Its Seasons
Fishing wasn't simply a matter of going out whenever you felt like it.
Different species were available at different times.
Environmental conditions changed.
Certain fishing grounds could be productive at particular times of year.
Te Ara records traditional restrictions around seasons and fishing grounds, demonstrating that harvesting was regulated rather than simply unrestricted.
This seasonal understanding is especially interesting when viewed alongside contemporary ideas about sustainable fishing.
Māori communities had systems for controlling when and where particular resources could be taken.
Rāhui: When Fishing Stops
One of the best-known Māori concepts associated with resource protection is rāhui.
A rāhui can place restrictions on access to or harvesting from a particular area.
Historically, this could be used to protect fishing grounds or species from being overharvested.
The principle is remarkably relevant today.
If a particular harbour, reef or shellfish bed is under pressure, removing harvesting pressure gives the ecosystem an opportunity to recover.
In traditional Māori contexts, however, rāhui is not simply a modern environmental management technique.
It sits within a wider framework of tikanga and relationships between people, resources and place.
That distinction is important.
Kaitiakitanga Begins With Relationship
This brings us back to kaitiakitanga.
We've explored kaitiakitanga elsewhere in The Wai-Tai Journal, but fishing provides a particularly practical way of understanding the concept.
If the moana provides food, then there is a responsibility associated with taking from it.
If you depend upon a harbour, reef or coastline, its health matters to you.
If your children and grandchildren will depend on the same waters, decisions made today matter tomorrow.
The relationship therefore isn't simply:
people → resource
It is much closer to:
people ↔ moana
A relationship involving responsibility, reciprocity and care.
The First Fish
Traditional fishing practices could include specific rituals around the first fish caught.
Te Ara records the practice of te ika whakataki, where the first fish could be returned to the sea as an offering or acknowledgement to Tangaroa.
The significance of this practice is easy to miss if we view it purely through a modern lens.
Why catch a fish and then return it?
Because the point wasn't necessarily to maximise the catch.
The first fish could represent acknowledgement.
Gratitude.
Respect.
A recognition that the fisherman was taking something from a much larger system.
Fishing Was a Communal Activity
Fishing could also bring people together on a huge scale.
Te Ara records an 1855 Te Rarawa fishing expedition involving more than 1,000 people and 50 canoes, lasting more than two days.
Think about the logistics.
Canoes.
Fishing equipment.
Food.
People.
Knowledge.
Processing the catch.
Transporting it home.
And then distributing the food.
Fishing could therefore involve an entire community.
The Catch Was Shared
The purpose wasn't necessarily to return home with the biggest possible haul for one fisherman.
Large fishing expeditions produced food that could be distributed among whānau and communities.
Fish could be cooked, dried and stored for later use.
Seafood could also be exchanged with inland communities for other foods and resources.
Te Ara describes exchanges in which coastal communities traded dried fish, seaweed and shark oil for products from inland areas.
The ocean therefore connected communities well beyond the coastline.
Kaimoana Was Part of a Wider Food System
When we talk about kaimoana, it is tempting to think only about fish.
But kaimoana encompasses a much wider range of food gathered from the sea.
Pāua.
Kina.
Pipi.
Mussels.
Oysters.
Tuatua.
Crayfish.
Seaweed.
And many other species.
Te Ara's research into traditional shellfish gathering shows just how important these foods were to coastal communities.
For many Māori communities, the coastline was effectively a food-producing landscape.
Mātaitai: Reading the Shore
Shellfish gathering required its own specialised knowledge.
Different species lived in different environments.
Some were found in rocky areas.
Others in sand or mud.
Some were associated with particular tidal conditions.
Some areas could be particularly productive at certain times.
This meant that knowledge of the shoreline was every bit as important as knowledge of the open ocean.
The beach wasn't simply somewhere to launch a canoe.
It was a source of food in its own right.
Pōhā: An Ingenious Way of Working With the Sea
One of the most fascinating traditional technologies documented by Te Papa is the pōhā.
Pōhā were traditionally made from kelp and used for storing and transporting seafood.
But their uses went considerably further.
Te Papa records that pōhā could be used in whakawhiti kaimoana, transporting live seafood to new areas to help establish populations.
Image from Te Papa https://collections.tepapa.govt.nz/object/258695?page=1&rtp=1&ros=1&asr=1&assoc=all&mb=c
Poha tītī (kelp bag) by Harold Ashwell; 1997; Bluff
That's an extraordinary example of traditional ecological knowledge.
People weren't simply harvesting seafood.
They were also moving and propagating it.
Pōhā Were Also Used in the Water
Here's a particularly surprising piece of history.
Te Papa records traditions of Ngāi Tahu using inflated pōhā for surfing.
Two pōhā could be inflated, tied together and used to help a person paddle into the sea and ride back through the breakers.
The activity was known as kauai or kaukau.
In other words:
Māori were using kelp flotation devices for wave riding long before modern surfboards existed.
That makes the history of surfing in Aotearoa even more interesting.
Fishing, Diving and the Moana
Fishing was only one way Māori interacted with the ocean.
People gathered shellfish.
Dived for seafood.
Travelled by waka.
Collected seaweed.
Harvested resources from rocky shores.
And developed detailed knowledge of coastal ecosystems.
The moana wasn't divided into neat modern categories such as:
fishing
diving
surfing
boating
conservation
It was simply part of life.
The East Coast Has Its Own Fishing Stories
For Wai-Tai, this history has particular relevance.
We are based in Te Tairāwhiti, a coastline where the relationship with the ocean remains deeply visible.
Fishing.
Surfing.
Diving.
Waka ama.
Swimming.
Gathering kaimoana.
Going to the beach with friends and whānau.
These aren't abstract ideas here.
They are part of everyday life.
That is one reason the moana is so central to Wai-Tai.
The Modern Fisherman
Of course, today's fisherman operates in a very different world.
A modern fishing trip might involve:
A fibreglass boat.
A sounder.
GPS.
Modern reels.
Synthetic lines.
Ice boxes.
Weather forecasts.
Marine radios.
Modern technical clothing.
The technology has changed enormously.
But some things haven't.
You still need to understand the weather.
You still need to read the water.
You still need patience.
You still need to know where fish are likely to be.
And you still need to respect the sea.
Why We Still Go Fishing
Ask many recreational fishers why they go.
The answer isn't always simply:
"For fish."
Te Ara's research into recreational fishing similarly notes that fishing can involve anticipation, planning, reading weather and sea conditions and simply enjoying being outdoors.
Anyone who has spent time on the water understands this.
There's something about getting away from the shore.
Watching the horizon.
Waiting.
Reading the conditions.
Feeling the boat move underneath you.
Or standing on a rock ledge with the swell rolling past.
The catch is only part of the experience.
Fishing Creates Memories
Ask someone about their favourite fishing trip and they'll often tell you a story.
The biggest fish.
The worst weather.
The one that got away.
The trip with their father.
The trip with their grandfather.
The first time their child caught something.
The ridiculous amount of food everyone ate afterwards.
These stories become part of family history.
And that is another connection with the traditional Māori relationship with fishing.
Fishing creates stories.
Passing Knowledge Down
Traditional Māori fishing knowledge survived because it was passed from one generation to another.
Where to go.
What to use.
When to go.
What to look for.
What not to take.
How to prepare the catch.
How to behave around particular places.
Modern fishing knowledge works in much the same way.
A child learns from a parent.
A beginner learns from an experienced fisherman.
An older generation passes on local knowledge.
Some things are written down.
Other things are simply learned by doing.
The Importance of Local Knowledge
You can read a book about fishing.
You can watch videos.
You can buy the best equipment.
But someone who has spent decades fishing the same coastline can know things that don't appear on a map.
They know the reefs.
The currents.
The wind.
The swell.
The seasons.
The places where baitfish appear.
The places that produce at different tides.
This kind of knowledge is deeply local.
And Māori fishing traditions were similarly rooted in particular places and generations of observation.
Fishing and Sustainability
Modern conversations about sustainable fishing often focus on catch limits, regulations and scientific monitoring.
These are important.
But traditional Māori approaches remind us that sustainability also involves relationship.
If you regard a fishery as part of your community and your whakapapa, depletion isn't simply an economic problem.
It affects the future.
It affects food.
It affects identity.
It affects the relationship between people and place.
That is one reason the principles behind rāhui and kaitiakitanga continue to resonate in modern Aotearoa.
Taking Only What You Need
This doesn't mean traditional Māori communities never harvested large quantities.
They certainly did.
Large communal fishing expeditions could produce enormous catches.
The important point is that harvesting existed within systems of knowledge, tikanga, seasonality, access and distribution.
The idea wasn't necessarily "never take".
It was about how, when, where and why you take.
That's a much more nuanced way of thinking about sustainability.
Wai-Tai and Life Around the Water
This relationship with fishing is one reason Wai-Tai clothing isn't designed simply as fashion for fashion's sake.
The brand grew from a lifestyle connected to the moana.
Surfing.
Fishing.
Diving.
Beach days.
Waka.
The East Coast.
And spending time outside.
Our technical boardshorts, for example, are designed for life around the water, with four-way stretch fabric and quick-drying technology.
They're equally at home on a surfboard, boat or beach.
Explore Wai-Tai Technical Boardshorts
Clothing for the Fisherman
There is also something very fitting about Wai-Tai's Tohu Fisherman Beanie.
The name itself connects directly with the people who spend time around the water, while the design remains unmistakably contemporary.
Shop the Wai-Tai Tohu Fisherman Beanie
And for colder days around the coast, the Wai-Tai heavyweight hoodies and crews provide another natural connection between contemporary Māori clothing and the realities of life in Aotearoa.
Ika: The Fish
The importance of fish to Māori culture is also reflected in the Wai-Tai range.
Ika simply means fish, but as we've seen throughout this article, fish can carry much greater significance within Māori narratives and relationships with the moana.
Wai-Tai's Ika T-shirts bring that connection into contemporary streetwear.
Explore the Wai-Tai Ika Collection
Kaitiaki of the Moana
Ultimately, the story of Māori fishing leads us back to guardianship.
The fisherman takes from the sea.
But the fisherman also depends upon the sea.
That creates responsibility.
For Wai-Tai, this is one reason kaitiakitanga appears repeatedly throughout our designs.
Our Kaitiaki range includes T-shirts, boardshorts, rash tops and other clothing inspired by guardianship of the natural world.
Explore the Wai-Tai Kaitiaki Collection
More Than Catching a Fish
Perhaps this is the most important thing to understand about te hī ika.
Fishing isn't simply:
person + rod + fish.
It can encompass:
whakapapa
Tangaroa
mātauranga
tikanga
whānau
kai
place
community
kaitiakitanga
and the moana itself.
That is why fishing has remained such an important part of Māori life.
The Relationship Continues
The tools have changed.
The boats have changed.
The clothing has changed.
The technology has changed.
But Māori relationships with the sea continue.
People still fish.
People still gather kaimoana.
People still travel by waka.
People still surf.
People still teach their children about the ocean.
And people still depend upon healthy coastal environments.
The story of Māori fishing is therefore not simply a story about the past.
It is still being written.
From Traditional Nets to Modern Boardshorts
There is a huge technological distance between a traditional harakeke fishing net and a modern pair of four-way stretch boardshorts.
But both exist because people have developed ways to live comfortably and effectively around the ocean.
Traditional Māori technology used the materials available in Aotearoa.
Modern Wai-Tai clothing uses contemporary technical fabrics.
The technologies are completely different.
The relationship with the environment is what connects them.
The Moana Gives, and We Have a Responsibility
Perhaps that is the lesson worth carrying forward.
The ocean gives us food.
It gives us recreation.
It connects communities.
It shapes identity.
It creates livelihoods.
It provides stories.
It provides places where people find peace.
And it has been central to Māori life for centuries.
But the relationship works both ways.
If we want the moana to continue providing for future generations, we need to look after it.
That is the heart of kaitiakitanga.
And that is why the story of Māori fishing is ultimately a story about much more than fish.
It is a story about people and their relationship with the sea.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is te hī ika?
Te hī ika means fishing. Traditional Māori fishing involved sophisticated knowledge, tools and techniques as well as tikanga and spiritual practices associated with Tangaroa.
What is kaimoana?
Kaimoana broadly refers to food gathered from the sea, including fish and shellfish such as pāua, kina, pipi, mussels and crayfish.
Who is Tangaroa?
Tangaroa is a major atua associated with the sea and its creatures within Māori traditions.
What is a rāhui?
A rāhui is a restriction placed over an area or resource for a particular purpose. In traditional fishing contexts, rāhui could be used to protect fishing grounds or species and regulate harvesting.
Did Māori use fishing nets?
Yes. Māori developed sophisticated fishing nets known as kupenga, using materials including harakeke fibre. Nets could be constructed at very large scales for communal fishing.
Did Māori use fishing pots?
Yes. Traditional tāruke were woven pots used to catch rock lobster and crayfish.
Did Māori surf before European contact?
There is evidence recorded by Te Papa of Ngāi Tahu using inflated kelp containers called pōhā to ride through breakers, in an activity known as kauai or kaukau.
Sources & Further Reading
- Te Ara – The Encyclopedia of New Zealand: Te hī ika – Māori fishing — traditional fishing, Tangaroa, fishing technology, tikanga, fishing grounds and communal fishing.
- Te Ara: Traditional practices — karakia, te ika whakataki, mauri and rāhui.
- Te Ara: Tools, grounds and methods — traditional fishing equipment and knowledge of fishing locations.
- Te Ara: Communal sharing and gifting — large-scale fishing expeditions, food storage and exchange.
- Te Ara: Mātaitai – shellfish gathering — traditional gathering of kaimoana.
- Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa: Traditional Māori food gathering — including pōhā, seafood propagation and their use in traditional water activities.
All factual material above has been independently written and paraphrased, rather than copied from the source material.