Wāhi Tiaki Tuna
A design proposal for an eel hatchery and conservation centre for the sustainability of Tuna Hao (native short fin eel) and Tuna Kuwharuwharu (endemic long fin eel). Situated on contested swamp land owned by the Ngāti Hine, subtribe of Ngā Puhi, in Northland New Zealand. The complex addresses issues surrounding the decline of eel populations in Aoteroa & responds to generational decline in Maori eeling culture through the region. Eel population decline proves to be an increasing global issue. So are the historical records of ancient fish fences, exhibited in partially ruinous but still partly functional remains of weir sites belonging to the Ngāti Hine.

Though eel fishing is seen to most Pakeha as a rural pastime, has a rich history in Aotearoa. For generations before English settlement, eel meat was the single most plentiful source of protein to indigenous Maori living inland; due to the absence of game and the extinction of moa. Eating tuna is enjoyed in a feast for the whānau. The catch, cleaning and cooking provide opportunity for the community to come together to prepare for a hui.

Wāhi Tiaki Tuna follows a program to reinvigorate cultural sustainability and ecological sustainability. Positioned along two intersecting axes; Wāhi Tiaki Tuna park provides the community and visitors with ground fixed infrastructure for commercial or recreational eel fishing. While on the opposing axis a laboratory and a museum provide the flagship for domestic eel research/breeding, a wild stock recording station and space for hosting eel sustainability symposiums.

The focus of my project is to juxtapose a dramatic linear form which collects a variety of communal amenities against encapsulated smaller structures that contain the privatized eeleum facilities.

Running down one axis is a variety of community based amenities. These include an eel gutting station, an eel cleaning station, a barbecue, picnic tables, a water supply, and a smokehouse. The form of this axis is represented in a linear structure that intersects the site taking the indigenous form of Maori, Nordic and North American fish drying racks – which this structure is also primarily used for.  As a celebration of the catch and manifestation of the community efforts that go into eel fishing the meat is dried on these racks and immerse the structure in a deciduous cladding. Treating the site like an open paddock, people from the wider community are encouraged to walk, drive or bike up towards the structure.

Meanwhile situated on the other axis are the more regimented structures designed to focus on the research and sustainability of eels. These elevated structures operate as workplaces for researchers and connect to one another via a boardwalk.  There are three designated structures on this axis.
The education centre, a place to educate students about eels as well as containing exhibition spaces to learn about eels. An eel hatchery, which allows scientists to breed eels in captivity to help re-establish the declining eel populations. Finally the third structure is reserved for the use of Department of Conservation workers who will come to inspect wild eels – this shed provides basic analogue tools to record the weight, age and length of these eels.

Steel frame structures, supported by cased anchor piles sit suspended above the swamp in case of flooding. These black steel membrane structures are shaded in smoked timber taken from the eel smokehouse and interchanged as they may need to be time to time. This creates a unique cladding that has a smokey weathering and patina as a result of the working community.

While being able to use the drying racks to celebrate the catch, a dramatic entranceway to the gallery created with carved timber reflects the live eels in their korotete boxes. This sculpture is meant to be touched and contact made in order to sentimentally connect with the eels as a food source. This ceremonial entrance reflects on the hongi greeting – when we create contact between our nose and forehead we then share the same breath of life.

As contemporary references I looked at the Confluence project by Maya Lin and the Steilneset Memorial by Peter Zumthor.
One of Lin’s most recognisable elements of her large scale project would be a basalt table, mimicking that of an old coastal fish gutting skink. Inscribed with cultural references to North American Chinook tribes, Lin draws attention to the past and to forgotten traditions.
Meanwhile, Zumthors memorial to the slain witches of the 17th Century contrasts dramatic repetition and linearity against the soft cotton membrane hanging inside the structure.