THE FUTURE OF Mangakino THE FUTURE OF Mangakino by LARRY FINN A recent news item in a Bay of Plenty newspaper drew attention to a problem that, whatever its economic aspects, is one of great human interest to the country in general. It concerned the future of the satellite town of Mangakino, which came into existence as a measure to house and cater for the labour force employed on Government hydro-electric schemes. It was, until recently, just taken for granted that the bulk of the population would be moved elsewhere when the present project was completed, but now there is a growing demand for the establishment of a permanent township, and the Maori Tribal Committee representing the owners have already been approached regarding granting of long tenure. Earnest efforts are being made to gain the permanency of the present shopping-centre, which will serve an ever-increasing farm district, and to try to establish light industries which will absorb the present, or a new, labour force. At the moment, there is little point in issuing statements about the future of the town, since no one is in the position to foretell even the most probable events. Anything can happen in the 21 years before the original lease expires, and there is nothing to indicate definitely that Mangakino will either expand considerably or vanish from the face of the earth. The development of the Pouakani block, however, on which the town now stands, is a different matter altogether, and it may yet prove to be that the futures of both are inextricably bound together for the common good. Together they have shared an interesting past, as we shall see, and in the light of that past the abandonment of Mangakino may not be treated lightly. Up to the days of Richard John Seddon, the Wairarapa Maoris had owned from time immemorial a lake to which they had given their name, and from whose waters they wrested a meagre living by catching eels. The lake emptied into the sea through a narrow channel at its southernmost tip, and it was the Maori custom of blocking this up that first led to trouble. Once a year, at a time the water's level had risen anything up to ten feet, the Maoris opened up the channel and allowed the lake to flood out, with the result that the eels became sluggish on contact with salt water, and were easily caught. Unfortunately for all concerned, many of the adjacent paddocks belonging to pakeha farmers were flooded also, and as can be imagined, some pretty strong words were bandied around between homestead and marae before