Six years after the devastating Whakaari/White Island eruption of December 9, 2019, the impacts of that tragic day continue to reverberate across Aotearoa and around the world. The eruption, which struck without warning while 47 people were on the island, claimed 22 lives and left many others with life-changing injuries.
For whānau who lost loved ones, and for survivors still recovering from burns, trauma, and countless surgeries, the path to healing has been long and fraught.
In the years since, the disaster has led to one of the most complex legal and regulatory reckonings in New Zealand’s recent history. WorkSafe initially laid multiple health and safety charges against tour operators, directors, and the owners of the island, but by 2023 most charges were withdrawn or dismissed. The remaining convictions resulted in significant financial penalties, yet many families felt those outcomes fell short of accountability.
A central question still lingers: how an active volcanic site-known for its unpredictable behaviour-continued to operate as a major tourism attraction without stronger safety measures, clearer warning systems, or more robust risk assessments.
For Māori, particularly Ngāti Awa, whose rohe includes Whakaari, the aftermath has been a period of deep reflection. While the iwi was not responsible for daily tourism operations, the eruption reignited kōrero about kaitiakitanga, commercial pressures, and how natural taonga are used. Ngāti Awa has since emphasised safety, environmental integrity, and cultural responsibility, with tourism operations remaining shut.
The country’s tourism sector also underwent major change. Operators across geothermal and adventure tourism revamped safety plans, emergency procedures, and monitoring systems. Government agencies implemented stricter compliance requirements, though critics argue more could still be done to prevent a similar tragedy.
Internationally, the Whakaari eruption stands as a cautionary example of the risks inherent in disaster tourism-especially where natural hazards cannot be fully controlled or predicted.
As the anniversary passes each year, survivors and whānau continue to gather in remembrance. Many say time has not diminished the pain, but it has strengthened their resolve to seek lessons and ensure no other families endure such loss.
Whakaari remains closed, silent but ever-present off the Bay of Plenty coast-its legacy a reminder of both nature’s power and the responsibilities that come with sharing the whenua and moana with manuhiri.
