Trans-Tasman Resources has long sought to mine iron sand from the South Taranaki seabed–an idea repeatedly shut down by regulators and courts. Now, it's back.
Supporters claim it could bring economic benefits, but critics argue the gains will mostly flow offshore. Phil McCabe, spokesperson for Kiwis Against Seabed Mining (KASM) and the Deep Sea Conservation Coalition, called it “the worst economic model you could imagine,” trading long-term environmental health for short-term, foreign-owned profit.
Trans-Tasman Resources (TTR), a foreign-owned company, is again seeking to extract millions of tonnes of iron sand from the South Taranaki Bight, which is a biologically rich and ecologically unique stretch of Aotearoa’s marine territory. The Environmental Protection Authority (EPA) declined the company’s previous applications in 2017 and again on appeal in 2021. But under the new Fast-Track Approvals Act, passed earlier this year, the project is being reconsidered with fewer checks and tighter restrictions over who gets to participate.
“Previously, anyone within the country could submit and be a party to the application,” Phil said. “But we've all been cut out.”
A Narrower Process, a Shift in Priorities
While the EPA still assesses the application, Phil says its hands are tied. “The EPA is an independent organisation, and I think they’ll do a fair job,” he said. “But the law they’re operating under is the problem.”
The new legislation accelerates projects deemed nationally significant, with economic growth as the overriding goal. In contrast to earlier consent processes, only selected iwi and local authorities may apply to be involved–and even they must seek approval to do so.
“The overarching objective of the Act is to build economic growth,” Phil said. Interviewer Aaron noted that “the environment and future generations are lower on the list,” to which Phil agreed, describing it as a “shift in the hierarchy of values.”
KASM, which previously, and successfully, challenged the project all the way to the Supreme Court, has formally requested standing in the new process. “We have an interest greater than the general public,” Phil said.
The South Taranaki Bight: A Marine Treasure
The South Taranaki Bight lies within New Zealand’s Exclusive Economic Zone and features an unusually broad continental shelf, creating what Phil called a “Goldilocks zone” of shallow, sunlit water. “It maintains a 30-metre depth contour out to about 30 kilometres,” he explained. “That depth is ideal for sunlight penetration, but it's far enough offshore that sediment from rivers doesn’t reach it. So it supports reef systems that simply don’t exist anywhere else.”
TTR’s method involves vacuuming seabed material to extract iron ore, drilling up to 11 metres into the ocean floor, then dumping the remaining sediment back into the water column. The resulting plume could spread far beyond the extraction site, affecting filter feeders, larval dispersal, and fragile benthic habitats.
“The fishing industry has opposed this forever,” Phil said. “They understand it will damage the environment which underpins their industry.”
Despite this, TTR’s CEO described the area as a “desert,” and Minister Shane Jones recently called it a “bog standard seabed.” Phil rejected both claims. “That comment was rubbish, unscientific,” he said.
Community and Council Opposition
Opposition is mounting again. South Taranaki, Whanganui and New Plymouth district councils have all reaffirmed their opposition. Whaingaroa Ward Councillor Lisa Thomson is also exploring options for Waikato District Council to take a position. Council meetings in Hawera have drawn large turnouts, including from hapū leaders and environmental advocates.
Waikato District Council is not technically classified as an affected party, but its jurisdiction covers coastline from Aotea to Port Waikato. Phil said Whāingaroa (Raglan) has long been a site of resistance. “The first prospecting permit in New Zealand waters was off the maunga here,” he said. “That was the beginning of KASM.”
“This Ocean Has Raised Us”
For former champion surfer Daniel Kereopa, the issue cuts deep. Raised in Whāingaroa, he described the ocean as both ancestor and teacher. “You always lean back on those times of memories you’ve shared with the ocean; with your grandparents, your parents, your brothers, your cousins,” he said.
He recalled diving with his father, learning to read the sea without GPS. “The ocean tells you what’s going on if you listen properly.”
If seabed mining goes ahead, he said, it’s not just marine life that’s at risk, but it’s cultural identity. “Think about all the time you spent in the water as a child–the memories, the connection–and now imagine that being taken away from you.” he said. “You’ll figure out that a part of your whole identity is gone, not by your choice, but someone else’s. What if the waves weren't here, would you still come here? What is the reason why you wake up to the vibration of this beautiful town?
“And do you want to fight for that or not?”
He added that ecological impacts won’t be contained. “The effects of what’s going to happen down south will eventually make its way up to where we are in Whāingaroa,” he said.
Phil agreed, noting the Bight is one of the most diverse marine mammal areas in the world. “Whales, dolphins and other species use it both as habitat and as a highway,” he said.
Phil also agreed with interviewer Aaron, criticising the language used by industry and media. “They call the mining device a crawler,” he said, referring to the mining machines that can be as big as a house.
He warned that euphemistic language distorts reality. “If you call it harvesting, people assume it’s renewable. But it’s not. There’s no crop next year. These things take millions of years to grow.”
The Global Picture
Phil is currently travelling to France for the United Nations Ocean Conference, representing the Deep Sea Conservation Coalition – an alliance of over 130 organisations. He hopes to advance the call for a global moratorium on seabed mining in international waters. Since 2022, the number of countries supporting such a ban has grown from four to 33.
Meanwhile, US President Donald Trump issued an executive order encouraging US agencies to bypass United Nations frameworks and mine international waters. “Trump has said, ‘We’re going to go and mine that area through our laws, and screw the rest of the world,’” Phil said.
“But the high seas are the common heritage of humankind,” he added. “You have a stake in it. I have a stake in it. So does everyone else.”
Paddle-Out Resistance Returns
Opposition to seabed mining runs deep along the west coast. In Whāingaroa, the first offshore prospecting permit sparked early concern and helped galvanise the formation of Kiwis Against Seabed Mining (KASM) in the mid-2000s. Phil acknowledged the pivotal role of local environmental advocate Angeline Greensill, who was instrumental in founding the movement and bringing mana whenua leadership to the forefront.
Since then, communities from Raglan to South Taranaki and Whanganui have continued to resist through legal challenges, iwi-led action and paddle-out protests.
That legacy is building again in response to the new Fast Track applications. “It started as an idea just for New Plymouth and Raglan,” said Phil. “And it’s spawned into paddle-outs across the country.”
In recent days, that wave of resistance has swelled. Eight coordinated paddle-outs have taken place along Aotearoa’s west coast – from Whāingaroa and Taranaki to Wellington and beyond – as surfers, iwi, environmental groups and everyday New Zealanders take to the water in protest.
The movement has even reached across the Pacific, with a solidarity paddle-out held in Tahiti, where concerns about deep-sea mining mirror those at home.
With new laws fast-tracking development, campaigners like Phil say the challenge now is to keep public pressure alive and grassroots resistance strong – until seabed mining is not just delayed, but permanently banned.