Clinging on to hope in sea of emotion

In my 33 years in journalism I have worked as a reporter, sub-editor, photographer and editor.

Through my images and words I have covered murders, elections, riots and a number of pretty major yarns.

The biggest would have been the fall of the Berlin Wall, way back in 1989, and the most dramatic a hand-grenade attack on an IRA funeral in Belfast where three people died and more than 50 wounded.

Being a journalist is exciting at times and as a young reporter I always hoped for something major to happen so I could work on big, exciting stories.

Three decades on, my attitude has long changed.

I don't like big, exciting stories as that often means something really bad has happened and people have been killed or hurt.

Well, the biggest news story in New Zealand this year is happening on our doorstep. And I don't like it.

For this is too personal. Papamoa is my beach. Just as it is the beach of every one of us who lives here. It is where I walk each day. It is where I think. It is where I can enjoy nature in all its weathers.

And I know a lot of the people who will suffer because this incident will wreck their businesses.

Oh, I'm covering the story. I've been down on the beaches - from the Mount to Maketu - taking photographs every day since the Rena ran aground on the Astrolabe Reef.

I've seen the first globs of oil at the Main Beach. The first dead birds at Papamoa.

Then hours wandering down my favourite beach despairing at how the white sands of Papamoa had been turned into an oil-streaked wasteland.

Those hours left me with a pounding headache and a sense of impending doom.

But there have been uplifting moments. Two examples were seeing those early volunteers attacking the tar-like oil with plastic spades and shovels, as well as the successful capture of an oiled penguin by a determined DoC worker who dived into the water to grab it.

A visit to the oiled wildlife response centre at Te Maunga was fantastic because those dedicated people are saving as many of the encrusted creatures brought to them as they can.

And while the sight of a dead seal pup and the tarred bodies of an albatross and other birds is exceptionally sad, watching cheeky penguin survivors swimming around in a plastic pool is soul-raising.

So is the number of people volunteering to help clean up the beaches.

Less pleasing are the increasing restrictions being placed upon the residents of Papamoa and the Mount about where they can and cannot go.

Hi-vis-vested security types stopping people going near the beaches - not even on them - rankles a little.

At the corner of Papamoa Beach Rd and the entrance to Harrison's Cut I was stopped by a pleasant guard. He said I couldn't go in, but did radio in to ask if I could go and overlook the beach.

The message came back via walkie talkie and I quote.

"That is a big negative ... this is from Maritime New Zealand."

Crikey, I thought, not only is Maritime New Zealand spreading its powers more than 100 metres inland, but it is seemingly the unelected government of the Bay beaches.

I won't say what else I thought ... but it may have been something like shame the great MNZ didn't act quicker at the start or have been prepared enough to have all the equipment necessary to deal earlier with the Rena's grounding.

Anyway, if you want to see what I have seen so far of the Rena Oil Disaster then check out my photos at www.richardmoore.com

There are some that will challenge you and others that, I believe, will raise your spirits.

In the meantime I will continue to document the unfolding saga of the Rena - New Zealand's worst environmental disaster.

Let's hope the brave men trying to pump out the oil from the stricken ship will be able to do the job and return to shore safely.

Our future in the Bay depends upon their courage and good work.

richard@richardmoore.com