RNZ’s First Up reporter Leonard Powell went on a road trip from Whakatāne around the East Cape to test the tone of the East Coast’s towns, pre-election. This is the fourth story from that series.

The picturesque East Coast beach settlement of Tokomaru Bay was once a busy whaling station and a port for the local farming industry.

Now it is a quiet settlement, usually about an hour’s drive north of Gisborne.

But with damaged roads from severe weather like Cyclone Gabrielle and slash from the forestry blocks on the hills, that trip is now more like two hours, locals say.

John Robinson has been living in Tokomaru Bay since 1989, after a long career as a police officer in Gisborne.

Now, the 81-year-old is worried about the weather, with severe storms becoming more regular.

“There was a big storm in 1921, another one in 1938 when the whole of this town was underwater, and then there was Cyclone Bola. Then we had the one two years ago and Gabrielle after that.

“They’re more frequent, a lot more frequent now. Instead of being decades apart they’re now just two or three years apart.”

The retiree keeps up to date with regional changes and cares deeply about our environmental legacy.

“The selling of good land for forestry to overseas companies so they can get carbon credits — that’s a false economy because those people go back to their own country, give their government the carbon credits and still pollute the atmosphere.”

He told First Up we need to think about what trees are planted in the area to avoid more landslips.

“Pine trees don’t hold the land. If they’re going to plant trees on land, it’s got to be native trees. The roots go right down. Pine trees — bit of wind and they’ll fall over.”

On the roads around Tokomaru Bay, stop/go signs, road cones and diggers mark the journey.

Slash has blown the Mangahauini River apart with debris still strewn on its expanded banks.

At the Tokomaru Bay wharf, 18-year-old Orini Rokx-Tarata said what used to be about a one-hour drive to Gisborne is now closer to two.

Like most others on the Coast, she says she is sick of the poor state of the roads.

“I just got my restricted (licence) and I think these roads are the hardest roads to drive.”

Orini is a first-time voter, and is keen on Te Pāti Māori.

It is not just roads, but issues like dental care that she wants to see improved too.

“Especially because there’s no fluoride in our water, because we live off tank water. So heaps of kids’ teeth around here are actually really rotten.”

Orini fishes at the wharf with her friends, all young women. They said they are keen to break stereotypes.

“The men fish around here. But you know, women, we gotta do what we gotta do to get a feed.

“Around here the dads do everything for us. They go diving, they get the fish for us and they go hunting and they get everything.

“So that’s why we are just breaking the stereotype . . . women can be gatherers too.

“All the aunties around here think that we’re neat because they didn’t do this.

“We give away our fish. We give it to our aunties or whānau, so they think we’re cool giving them kai.

“We’re just doing this for fun.”

Among many of the older residents of Tokomaru Bay, there is a treasure trove of memories.

Local legend 87-year-old Hina Wilcox recalled life there in the 1940s.

“We had a lovely childhood, because we never went hungry. Every home had a big vegetable garden and we all had fruit trees galore, and we lived off the sea.”

Over a cup of tea, Hina shared memories of growing up on the Coast.

“Crayfish was just our common food — you know, ‘oh, no, we’re not having crayfish again’.

“Whereas other areas, especially in the towns, they thought that it was the greatest to have a meal of crayfish.”

Wilcox has long performed music, often busking with her friend Merle Pewhairangi on guitar.

She sang a song from the old days when freezing works were an economic boon in the region, written by Peter Awatere, to the traditional Irish tune of ‘Galway Bay’.

“If you ever go across the seas to Waima, and maybe at the closing of each day, you will sit and watch the the moon rise o’er Hautanoa, and watch the sun go down on Toko Bay.

“And if there is going to be a life hereafter, no matter where I’ll be or where I roam, I will ask my God to rest my bones in Waima, it is my heaven, my dear old home sweet home.”