Long ago, the vast ocean called to our ancestors, the Māori. Their hearts were as brave as the soaring sea eagles, and their minds were as sharp as the tooth of the shark.

Under the cloak of night, a multitude of stars twinkled like guiding lanterns. Māori navigators read these celestial maps as they would the lines on their palms.

Sturdy canoes, called waka, were crafted from the trunks of giant trees, their sails as wide as the wings of the albatross.

The Māori would chant to the rhythm of the oar strokes, propelling the waka across waves that danced with the reflections of a thousand suns.

Fear was a stranger to our ancestors. Even in the face of storms that writhed like serpents through the sea, they held fast to their course.

The navigators would speak to the ocean, and in whispers, the water would reveal the secrets of the swells, currents, and winds.

Children learned the language of the waves and wind. They understood that every ripple and gust was a verse of an ancient poem.

After months of travel, a cry rang out, 'Land ho!' A new home was found, and they named it Aotearoa, the land of the long white cloud.

These journeys were not just across the sea but through time. We are the legacy of their courage, their knowledge passed down like treasured heirlooms.

Today, we honor their memory by learning about their ways, telling stories, and celebrating the trails they blazed across the Pacific sky.

Our names carry the strength of our heritage. Surnames like Beach tell tales of lives lived in harmony with nature's ebb and flow.

We stand here, the descendants of Māori voyagers and Celtic warriors. Together, we guard the fires of our culture, forever burning bright.