They came from all over the country to this little wharenui, Rakeiao, nestled on the shores of Lake Rotoiti.
Mourners at Sir Toby Curtis' tangi. Photo: Supplied/Jacky James
Politicians, dignitaries, and the Kiingitanga shuttled down the narrow winding road to Tapuaekura marae. And here, at this isolated, fern-fringed bay they paid tribute to a man whose life was devoted to mana Māori motuhake.
Sir Toby Curtis, a child of Ngāti Rongomai and Ngāti Pikiao, who was born and raised in poverty beside this tranquil lake in 1939, the youngest of 15 children who grew up to become one of Māoridom's greatest educationalists.
Tā Toby died last week, aged 83, and was farewelled at yet another large tangi, the likes of which there have been so many in 2022.
Here at Rotoiti, they farewelled a man who spearheaded efforts to revive Te Reo Māori, to establish Māori radio and Te Mangai Paho, to lead Te Arawa and to support and embolden rangatahi, to name just a few of his achievements.
They farewelled a man who spearheaded efforts to get tamariki learning their own reo and culture as a key to success, who was known as a gentle-giant who never raised his voice, but could speak in daggers - particularly to the Crown.
Sir Tony Curtis is led out by mourners at his tangi at Rotoiti. Photo: Supplied/Curtis family
They paid tribute to a proud man of Pikiao and Rongomai, who drove efforts to decolonise their own marae practices. A man who grew up encouraged not to speak te reo, who instead went on to champion it.
Over the weekend and into the final day on Monday, thousands poured through in wicked weather to huddle under the marquee. A genius, a lover, a fighter, a carer, a ninja, and a gentle giant were just some of the terms used to describe him.
But it started from humble beginnings. Born the youngest of 15 children, Tā Toby's son, Piripi, told the crowd that discrimination was felt from his very first days.
"Nopera Tamihana Curtis was his given name," he told the nehu on Monday. "When he got to the registry office with my nanny, they changed it to a more acceptable form of a name for good Christian Māoris."
Beyond his myriad accolades, niece Ngaroma Tahana outlined a family man besotted by his wife Mary, who had a fast induction to Pikiao.
Photo: Supplied/Curtis family
"[Mary] was out here visiting from Australia, a fresh Australian here in Aotearoa. She met this handsome Māori man, he swept her off her feet, and the first date they went on he said, 'pack your bag, we're going on a date'."
"He brought her to a tangi here," Tahana told a crowd that was in fits of laughter.
Tā Toby's final 16 years were spent as the chair of Te Arawa Lakes Trust, leading the iwi through its post-settlement phase.
Mourners at Sir Toby Curtis' funeral Photo: Supplied/Curtis family
Its chief executive, Karen Vercoe, told RNZ before his nehu that his work there was immeasurable. The trust's coffers had grown from $33 million to more than $100 m, and the health of the Rotorua lakes had improved considerably.
"You know we've still got unfinished business in terms of our settlement," Vercoe said in an interview on the lake's narrow beach.
"This is the place where Tā Toby swam, this is the place that Tā Toby played, that he grew up in, that he caught fish and koura.
"So for us we are the kaitiaki or the hunga tiaki of our lakes and therefore that's why we're so passionate about ensuring that our wai is returned."
But his work is unfinished. Vercoe said Tā Toby left an ohaaki, not that she would give details.
"He left a few instructions for all of us. I won't repeat those instructions because it might mean I don't ever meet with a minister again."
His moko, Dennis Curtis, said Tā Toby touched countless lives. That was clear to all who came to Tapuaekura.
But as an educationalist, he set others up to carry on the work. Dennis Curtis said Tā Toby had created a platform for Te Arawa - for all Te Ao Māori - and now it was up to them.
"The future is on the pae, it's on our tamariki and mokopuna and one our wharekura, kohanga reo. It's on reviving our reo, which is well and truly here, and we've demonstrated something clearly to all our iwi, all our hapū that this is a man that gave the rangatahi the opportunity," Curtis said.
School children at the tangi of Sir Toby Curtis. Photo: Supplied/Curtis family
"So where to from here? Just keep pushing. The work is not done."
After the ferocious storms that plagued the weekend, churning up mud and sending a chilling wind across the grounds, the sun came out on Monday, the final day.
Photo: Supplied/Curtis family
"He's happy, obviously," Dennis smiled. "He gave us a test on the first week leading up to it when he was a little mauiui, and as we got into the tangi he really put the test on."
He gestured to the warming late winter sun: "Now he's happy with how it went".
After all the tributes, Nopera Tamihana Curtis was taken on his final journey, up the slippery muddy track to the urupā at the top of the hill, where he's now at rest. Looking over the glassy waters of his beloved Rotoiti, watched over by maunga Matawhaura.
