From mussel spat farms to horses damaging shellfish beds on Raglan’s main beach, to looming seabed mining in Taranaki, local voices are raising the alarm about the pressures on our coastline. Speaking on Raglan Community Radio, environmental advocates Angeline Greensill and Stacey Hill said it is time for the community to stand together to protect the moana and the whenua.
WRC Raises Compliance Questions on Raglan Mussel Farm Plans
Plans for a massive mussel spat nursery off the coast of Whāingaroa/Raglan have reignited debate over the future of the coastline, with Angeline warning it could undermine both marine life and cultural rights.
North Western Mussels Limited (NWML), which has been conducting spat research trials off Raglan, has lodged a proposed plan change with Waikato Regional Council to create a new “Raglan Mussel Spat Catching and Holding Zone.” The plan change seeks to amend the Waikato Regional Coastal Plan, where aquaculture in the area is currently prohibited, and clear the way for structures and large-scale spat farming.
The company is also pursuing fast-track approval to scale up its operations into one of the country’s largest spat nurseries, spanning four sites and 700 hectares between Papanui Point and Paritokuku Point. Marketed as “critical industry infrastructure,” the nursery is pitched as essential for securing a resilient spat supply to sustain New Zealand’s Greenshell mussel industry, with the potential to support more than 35,000 tonnes of harvested product each year.
But concerns are mounting. Fishermen have reported hazards from unmarked research lines off Raglan, and a regional council audit found compliance breaches.
Angeline said the issue was also front and centre at a hui called recently by Ngā Uri o Tāhinga, concerned about non-compliance at the research site off their coast. “If the applicant can’t comply at the research stage, will they comply if they get consent for the 700-hectare mussel spat farm?” she asked.
Industry stakeholders have lined up in support, but the nursery’s location within Māui dolphin habitat and the rohe moana of local hapū has triggered strong cultural and environmental opposition.
Horses on the Beach: A Clash of Use and Care
For years, Raglan locals have watched the growing number of horses being exercised on the beach – not just by local riders, but by trucks and floats arriving from outside the district. What was once the occasional sight of a rider taking a horse for a canter along the sand became groups of horses galloping down to the waterline, often in peak holiday crowds.
“Last century it used to be part of our lives to take a horse up the beach for food gathering or travel,” said Angeline. “But what’s happening now is very different. Heavy horses are being taken right down to the low tide mark where our kaimoana lives. They crush the shellfish underneath. That’s the food our people have relied on for generations.”
Stacey, who is both a CoastCare advocate and a horse rider, acknowledged the tension. “I love riding,” she said. “But studies are clear – tuatua and other shellfish don’t survive being trampled. We’re not saying horses should be banned everywhere. But we have to set aside some areas if we want shellfish beds to be here for our children.”
The problem goes beyond shellfish mortality. Disturbed sand, compacted by hooves, disrupts the delicate ecosystem that filters water and anchors dunes. Shellfish beds, already under pressure from overharvesting and climate change, face yet another stressor.
The human risk is just as real. Angeline recalled incidents where startled horses bolted through crowds. “One ended up in my section – I didn’t know what was happening until I heard people shouting,” she said. With horse trucks often filling car parks and cars spilling onto locals’ lawns and grass verges, it’s no wonder that things became tense.
The bylaw that once regulated horses on beaches was struck down in 2016 after Waikato District Council failed to secure ministerial approval. Since then, there has been a regulatory vacuum, with nothing but committed volunteers and public pressure educating people to stop activities harming the space.
With Raglan’s beaches continuing to attract visitors from across the region, the absence of enforceable rules leaves both shellfish and safety at risk. Council is expected to revisit the issue, but both Angeline and Stacey say environmental concerns – including those raised by mana whenua – must be given real weight. They worry that ignoring these voices risks breaching Treaty obligations and undermining the community’s shared responsibility to protect the environment.
Seabed Mining: KASM Marks 20 Years of Resistance
The interview also turned to the decades-long fight against seabed mining. Trans-Tasman Resources (TTR) has repeatedly sought approval to mine ironsands off the South Taranaki Bight, and Raglan’s Kiwis Against Seabed Mining (KASM) has been at the forefront of opposition.
KASM, of which Stacey and Angeline are committee members, celebrated its 20th anniversary over the weekend. The group began in Raglan in 2004 with the simple message “Don’t Steal Our Sand.” Since then, it has mobilised thousands of submissions, organised flotillas of surfers and boaties, and become a national voice warning of the risks of industrial extraction from the seafloor.
“We’ve fought this for two decades,” Stacey said. “TTR thought the fast-track process would hand them a rubber stamp. But the expert panel is pushing back. Their science is outdated – some of it’s 10 years old. It doesn’t reflect the complexity of our marine environment.”
Angeline stressed the principle: “It has never been a desert out there. It’s always been abundant, full of marine life. If seabed mining is allowed here, the floodgates will open across Aotearoa. Once the precedent is set, others will follow.”
The fight isn’t just ecological – it’s political. NZ First MP Shane Jones has openly backed seabed mining, casting doubt on whether environmental concerns will prevail. “It’s a real disappointment,” Angeline said, “given his history of supporting Māori rights and environmental causes. It feels like short-term industry pressure is being put ahead of intergenerational guardianship.”
Treaty of Waitangi: A Buffer Against Exploitation
The conversation also connected environmental battles to constitutional history. Angeline argued that iwi rights, enshrined in the Treaty of Waitangi, have consistently been the strongest bulwark against exploitation.
“New Zealanders should be thankful local hapū/iwi are there in the middle, as a buffer between corporations and the environment,” she said. “The Treaty is a promise of a future together – about sharing, not division. But we still haven’t seen that promise fulfilled in practice.”
Her point was that the Treaty is not just a historical document but a living framework. It ensures hapū/iwi must be notified of developments and given standing in legal and environmental processes. This has meant hapū/iwi are often the first to mount challenges against projects that threaten ecosystems.
“Without hapū/iwi standing in the way, a lot more of our land and sea would already have been taken over,” she said. For Angeline, it’s a reminder that environmental protection and indigenous rights are intertwined – both aimed at protecting taonga for future generations.
Wastewater: From Pollution to Potential
Closer to home, Raglan’s long-running wastewater saga may finally be reaching a conclusion. For decades, both treated wastewater – and in earlier years, untreated wastewater – was discharged into the harbour, a practice that sparked protests, petitions, and deep frustration among residents, especially local hapū who saw the harbour, their food basket, treated as a dumping ground.
Now, a land-based treatment system is on the horizon. Angeline is leading a cultural impact assessment to ensure mana whenua values are embedded in its design. “This time it’s real,” she said. “Treated water will go into planted gullies, creating new ecosystems. We’re already preparing native trees. It’s not just about disposal – it’s about healing.”
The new approach reframes wastewater as a resource rather than waste, using land and plants as natural filters. Native plantings will absorb nutrients and create habitats for birds and insects, turning what was once an environmental hazard into a tool for regeneration.
Angeline credited Watercare engineer-botanist Peter Crabb with challenging the old engineering mindset. “In the past we were told, ‘Dilution is the solution. Pump it into the ocean.’ But that’s pollution, not dilution. This system adds value back to the land. I believe it will be a model for other towns if we do it right.”
For Raglan, the shift could mark the end of a 50-year struggle and the start of a new way of managing human impacts in harmony with the environment.
Growth Without a Plan
Beyond environmental battles, Raglan faces another pressing challenge: rapid population growth. New subdivisions at Rangitahi and Te Hutewai Road are well into the process of adding around 1,000 homes, potentially reshaping the town.
“Raglan township was designed as a grid by people who had never seen the land. The main street ends up almost in the ocean,” Angeline said. “We don’t have the infrastructure yet for that scale of growth. Council keeps promising a structure plan, but it hasn’t happened. If they won’t do it, maybe the community has to.”
She warned that without proper planning, more locals could be pushed out by rising costs, while infrastructure struggles to keep up with demand.
The absence of a plan leaves schools, roads, and health services scrambling to keep pace. Locals fear Raglan could become another example of coastal towns overtaken by development pressures, where the lifestyle marketed to outsiders ends up displacing the very communities that created it.
A Call for Community Vigilance
Across all the issues – horses, mining, wastewater, aquaculture, and housing – Angeline and Stacey’s message was the same: the Raglan community must remain engaged.
Stacey summed it up: “It’s about collective good. Our dunes, our shellfish beds, our waters – once they’re gone, they’re gone.”
Angeline added: “Knowledge comes and goes and knowledge keepers go. We have to leave markers for the next generation so they can protect what we’ve protected.”