The layers beneath - what flooring has taught us about whanau, whenua and whakapapa

Foundation of it all - Papatuanuku

A few short months ago, I thought flooring was simple — a matter of measure, cut, lay, and repeat. But it didn’t take long to realise it’s much more than that. Once you step into someone’s home or business, you begin to understand: this work isn’t just about what goes on the bones of a house — it’s about the foundations of people’s lives and livelihoods.

From grinding and sealing concrete slabs to installing carpet or vinyl, we are shaping spaces that hold meaning. These are not just rooms — they are bedrooms where pēpi will take their first steps, kitchens where aunties will make fry bread for hui, marae where stories will be passed down, and shops where locals will build their dreams. Every job is a privilege, because every space we step into belongs to someone, and often, it’s someone we know.

That’s the thing about Te Hiku o te Ika. If you grow up here, your worldview is different. There’s a way of doing things here — more personal, more relational. Often, if we don’t know someone directly, we know someone in their whānau. There’s a constant thread of connection, a shared sense of understanding. We belong to each other here.

Our place in the world is shaped not just by our people, but by our landscape — and our coastscape. Growing up in Herekino isn’t the same as growing up in Ahipara, even though they’re only minutes apart. The environment is different. The histories are different. And the way our floors wear and weather — from sand to stormwater — tells that story too. In these differences, there’s richness. A profound understanding that our lives are deeply tied to place.

We know what it means to be isolated — physically and at times economically. A storm might cut us off from the nearest shop for days. The truck might not make it over the Mangamukas. And yet, in the face of that, we adapt. We lean on one another. We share — a bucket of pipi, a sack of kina, tools, skills, advice — not because we expect something in return, but because that’s how life is lived here. That’s the foundation of Te Hiku o te Ika.

This ethos extends into business too. Collaboration, not competition, is what keeps our community strong. Knowledge is shared. Resources are lent. And a helping hand is always close. It’s in this spirit that we work — not just to lay floors, but to contribute to something deeper: the spaces that hold our stories, our whānau, and our future.

Hei mahitahi tātou i te hapai te hāpori o Te Hiku o te Ika