Wellington Museum’s new kororā display asks us to look closer

Wednesday, 20 May 2026

Rongopai Tickell is a Mātanga Akoranga Learning Specialist at Wheako Pōneke Experience Wellington

At Te Waka Huia Wellington Museum, we are beginning to share the story of kororā (little blue penguins) with our visitors, especially our tamariki. Our new kororā display invites people to look closer, to understand the lives of this remarkable species, and to recognise their presence all around us.

I vividly remember my first encounter with the kororā on Matiu/Somes Island. First one little kororā pokes his head out from behind a log, pausing to check if the coast is clear. Then another appears, and another. They gather in a small huddle, heads darting this way and that, each waiting for someone else to make the first move.

Finally, one brave kororā steps forward. He waddles quickly, then breaks into a determined sprint for the bushes, his tiny legs moving at surprising speed. Under the glow of our red-light torches, we catch glimpses of him, his small blue head popping up through the grass as he climbs the steep incline. It feels almost cinematic. I find myself filming on my phone and later adding the Pink Panther soundtrack to match their cautious, comical movements.

I am completely overwhelmed by their cuteness. But more than that, I feel deeply honoured to be in their presence, to witness the mana of this taonga species in Te Whanganui a Tara.

Mātiu Island is an āhuru mōwai, one place of refuge for kororā. Here, they are protected. Here, they belong.

I work as a Learning Specialist at Te Waka Huia, Wellington Museum. Through this role, I met Terese McLeod of Taranaki Whānui, who shared her experiences on Mātiu Island and her deep love for te taiao. Together, we spoke about how to bring these stories to the tamariki who walk through our museum doors.

Terese reminded me that kororā may be our smallest residents in Wellington, but they are also our tuakana (big brothers and sisters). They lived in this harbour long before us. She laid down a wero (challenge). Kororā are under threat, and we must do better to protect them.

What many people don’t realise is that kororā live all around Wellington Harbour. Even when we cannot see them, they are there, resting in burrows or far out at sea gathering kai (food). Their absence from view does not mean absence from place.

They are determined, resilient, and fiercely loyal to their kāinga (home). For generations, kororā have returned to the same nesting sites, navigating an increasingly busy and altered harbour to find their way home. When it is time to breed, they return to the place they were born.

Kororā are also indicators of the health of the harbour itself. When they are thriving, it tells us that the moana (sea) can still sustain life. When they struggle, it is a sign that something deeper is out of balance.

But what happens when their home has changed?

What happens when their pathways are disrupted by roads, their nesting grounds disturbed, their environment threatened by dogs, pollution, and habitat loss? How does a kororā find its way back then?

These are the questions that stayed with me. They became a starting point.

Our new kororā display and education programme is a small step, but it sits within something much bigger, an ongoing relationship with mana whenua and a shared commitment to protecting the taiao (environment).

Because looking after kororā is not just about saving a species. It is about remembering that we are not alone in this place. It is about recognising those who have always called this harbour home and understanding our responsibility to ensure they can continue to return, generation after generation.