Just south of Rotorua, nestled between forestry roads and thermal valleys, lies a stretch of remote Māori land that’s long been the subject of whispers — and now, renewed speculation.
According to historic geological surveys, this area might sit atop a rare deposit of uranium-bearing rock.
But despite decades of interest, no formal testing has ever been permitted.
“We’ve known about the readings since the ’70s,” says one retired geologist who worked on early mapping surveys.
“But the ground’s tapu, and no one wants to go near it without permission.”
A discovery left untouched
The first clues came in 1975, when a government-led airborne survey detected unusual gamma radiation signatures in a small pocket of land near Lake Rotomahana.
Later soil samples confirmed the presence of elevated uranium traces, though not enough at the time to justify commercial exploration.
But plans to dig deeper were quickly halted.
The land is privately owned by several hapū, and according to local sources, a rāhui (spiritual restriction) was placed shortly after the findings.
“It’s not just a legal issue,” says Mere, a local kaumātua.
“This land has a deeper history — and not everything buried here should be disturbed.”
Why it matters now
In recent years, rising interest in rare earths and nuclear minerals has led to a quiet push by overseas companies seeking exploration rights across parts of New Zealand.
Although uranium mining is banned under NZ law, prospecting is technically still permitted — if landowners and authorities agree.
In this case, neither has.
“It’s sensitive ground, culturally and geologically,” says a senior official from GNS Science.
“There’s no appetite to force testing where it’s not welcomed.”
Still, independent researchers remain curious. Some believe the area could hold one of the country’s last untapped mineral anomalies, possibly dating back to ancient volcanic activity.
Questions without answers
Because no formal drill testing has ever been done, no one knows for sure what lies beneath. And that may be the point.
“Some things don’t need to be measured to be respected,” Mere adds.
“If the land is telling us to leave it be — we listen.”
For now, the site remains off-limits.
No roads, no fences, no signs. Just scrub, silence… and an unanswered question buried deep below.
