Pukeko by the stream

There was an open day today for members of the West Auckland Historical Society. Seeing as it was such a great sunny day, after several days of grey and rain, I'd get on a bus and go see them. On the way, I took photos, with this blog in mind.

Just before you reach the Henderson shopping centre itself from the east, Great North Road crosses over the Oratia Stream. Despite the privet trees growing everywhere, it's a beautiful spot. This is looking south ...

... and this is looking north, towards the Waitemata Harbour.

But, my attention was caught by this pukeko. It was way down and far along the creek, and camera-shy as anything. These four shots were taken over two intervals, during which the bird thought I'd give up if it hid in the long grass. Nope.

These three ducks like the stream as well.

To see wildlife so close to a major suburban shopping centre, and so near to a main arterial route in Auckland, is something quite cool. Things aren't perfect in the Oratia Stream, but -- where there's life, there's hope.

Update: (24 May 2009) I received this email comment from regular contributor Phil Hansen --thanks, Phil!

Although I have heard them described as the "pitbull of birds" I have a real soft spot for the pukeko. Two urban spots I enjoy visiting to see them – and a wide variety of other birdlife – are the Waiatarua Reserve off Abbotts Way in Meadowbank and the Tahuna-Torea reserve near West Tamaki Road on the edge of Glendowie. I recommend both reserves as top one-stop spots for a relaxing combo of recreational history, wildlife-watching, and exercise!

Waiatarua is said on the Auckland City Council website to be New Zealand's biggest urban wetland restoration project, its principal function being a huge stormwater treatment system that removes pollutants from the waterways via a network of drains, weirs, bunds and sediment traps. The site, of about 20ha, was according to the council once part of a freshwater lake, which was denied its source by the lava flows from the Maungarei (Mt Wellington) eruptions some 9000 years ago. Subsequent ponding, silt and volcanic ash helped create the wetlands.

Tahuna-Torea covers 25ha on a long sand bank extending into the Tamaki Estuary. The council website says it is rich in Maori history as well as native birds and vegetation. Tahuna Torea means "gathering place of the oyster-catcher". In pre-European times, it was a good gathering site for the then local tangata whenua, Ngati Paoa. Says the council site: "Their food sources included shellfish, fish and birds. Evidence of their activities includes middens of pipi shells above the beach and the dams constructed at the head of the lagoon to catch fish. It was also an important strategic site being near the mouth of the Tamaki River and the shortest route for canoes to travel between the Waitemata and Manukau Harbours". (But I've also heard this claim made of the route now basically followed by the two Portage Roads, one at the Western edge of Auckland City, the other in Otahuhu.) The reserve harbours a wide range of wildlife including godwits that gather between seasonal migrations to the Northern Hemisphere.

Window on Swanson

Found this site while having a look for something else. It hasn't been updated for a couple of years, but the general history, timeline, and info on William Swanson is worth a look.

I'll add a plug for my index to Rugged Determination, the Swanson history book, as well.

25 February 1982 – Opening of Kinder House, Parnell

Kinder House in Parnell, owned by Auckland City Council and administered by the Kinder Society, became the first building in New Zealand devoted to the artistic work of one person when it was opened as a gallery and museum on 25 February 1982. Inside, the works of Rev. Dr. John Kinder are on display and provide examples of the contribution Kinder made to the history of New Zealand art, as well as that made to the history of the Anglican church in this country.

Bishop Augustus Selwyn purchased land in Parnell for the school, and had the house made from Rangitoto stone, designed by Frederick Thatcher. It was built to serve as the Master’s House for the Church of England Grammar School. Kinder arrived in Auckland in 1856 to be the headmaster of the school by 1857, and the house at Ayr Street was to be the Kinder family home for the next 15 years. Five other headmasters of the school followed him as residents of the house. In 1974 the council purchased the house for the purpose of preserving it as a historic building.

Rev. Kinder left the house in 1872 on being appointed as master of theology at St John’s College, Meadowbank, and in later years lived at Arney Road, Remuera. He journeyed over much of the country, both painting and photographing scenes of New Zealand during the 19th century. He died aged 83 at his Remuera home, Woodcroft, in 1903, after a brief illness.

The house today is looked after, as I said earlier, by the Kinder Society, of which I'm very proudly a member. I've come to know some truly wonderful, history-minded people over the past two of three years through attending their meetings and book launches. The house itself is one of Auckland's real treasures. Visit, next time you're in Parnell.

20 December 1929 – Opening of the Civic Theatre

On the night before the gala opening of Auckland’s fourth and last “picture palace”, the new theatre was outlined in a blaze of red lights, a fiery radiance that could be seen all across the city, a promise of spectacles that came to be associated with the Civic.

The Civic Theatre gained its name from the civic square development put forward by Auckland City Council as early as 1925 but unfortunately failed to go ahead at that stage after rejection at a public poll in April that year. The land, bounded by Queen Street, Cook Street, Albert Street and Wellesley Street was to have been a new civic administration centre, to go with the grandeur of the Town Hall already in place. Before that, it was the site of Auckland’s City Market, and was a Market Reserve from 1855. After the poll failure, and with the site already cleared of buildings that had been leased from the Council, new leases were entered into for buildings on the periphery of the old Market Reserve. One of these leases was given to Thomas O’Brien.

O’Brien purchased and operated his first theatre in Dunedin in the early 1920s, after working for the theatre chain company of Fuller-Hayward. In 1925 he became the owner of Everybody’s Theatre in Auckland’s Queen Street and went on to acquire a number of other cinemas in the Auckland area, including the Rialto in Newmarket, the Theatre Royal in Kingsland and the Regent (later the Lido) in Epsom.

There was controversy which reached government levels over the funding for the building of the Civic, but O’Brien still managed to have the opening night on 20 December 1929 as planned, showing the citizens of Auckland the detailed design by Australian architect Charles Bohringer.

However, the timing of the Civic theatre counted against O’Brien. The Depression in the 1930s, along with O’Brien’s choice to screen British rather than American movies contributed to poor attendances. His company collapsed and he returned to Sydney in 1932. The Civic passed to Amalgamated Theatres in 1945.

17 November 1902 – Inauguration of Auckland’s electric tramways

It began, in 1902, with the turning on of a switch. On Monday 17 November 1902 the Mayor of Auckland, Alfred Kidd started the generators at the lower Hobson Street power station, thus inauguration the era of electric traction to Auckland. A short time later, at the junction of Queen and Custom Streets, 85-year-old Sir John Logan Campbell was presented with a motorman’s licence, and drove the first electric tram in Auckland City to the Choral Hall and a luncheon for the guests. The day ended with a ball at “Rocklands” in Epsom.

Auckland had been served by horse trams from 1884 but by 1899 the growing city was ready for the “jazzy electrics”. In that year the British Electric Tramways Company bought the tramway network from the company operating it at the time, registered the Auckland Electric Tramways Company in that year, and from 1900 began construction of the new system, including its own power station in Hobson Street. Bad weather, fire, and even the sinking of the Elingamite off Three Kings Islands (on board were motormen bound for Auckland and the Ponsonby-College Hill run) delayed the inauguration of the service until mid-November 1902. But from the start, it was a success with the public, and the spread of the “steel web” was part of the spread of suburban Auckland in the first half of the 20th century.


The Auckland Electric Tramway Company moved into offices in this Fanshawe Street building, still bearing the "AET" inscription on the facade, c.1908. They were only there four years -- as soon as more land had been reclaimed from the harbour, they shifted closer to the shore, to the corner of Albert and Customs Streets. By the end of the First World War, their enterprise belonged to the city council, and the company had faded completely away -- apart from their enduring mark on a central city building now associated with ships' chandlery rather than the rattling of an innovative public transport system.

1 December 1917 – Introduction of six o’clock closing

Nearly 42 years ago, it was illegal to buy a beer in a pub after six o’clock. If you wanted the beer, you had to get your order in before six o’clock, and drink it all by 6.15pm, when the pub had to close. This started on 1 December 1917, a temporary measure as part of wartime restrictions, but made permanent in 1918. It even prohibited the consumption of liquor after hours in restaurants and “oyster saloons”. It meant the start also of a new phrase for Aucklanders: the “six o’clock swill”

A referendum in 1949 voted for the regulations to continue, with many in the liquor industry ironically not promoting a change. A move back to 10 o’clock closing would have meant huge investment in bar and dining facility upgrades, as well as increased wages costs.

Ten o’clock closing was endorsed by a vote of almost 2 to 1 on 23 September 1967. Brewery managers and hotel operators immediately predicted increases in liquor prices due to longer staff hours and alterations. On Monday 9 October that year, the first day the new regulations came into effect, many hotels locked their doors and turned customers away because staff refused to work past 7 pm until night pay rates had been negotiated. Eventually the new hours were accepted, and the “six o’clock swill” became part of our past.

My mother, to her dying day, said she was proud to have voted in the end of the "swill". This meant that "six o'clock swill" was one of those historic terms I basically cut my teeth on, in a way. That, and knowing the list of the Kings and Queens of England.

The art of peering at tiny history

This post is where I will probably upset those who organise art exhibitions which include historic images. I may never be invited to an opening ever again after these comments.

I turned up early last night at the Corbans Estate Art Centre in Henderson, a very fortunate location for a gallery, considering its still lovely heritage exterior, and the history tied in with the Corban family. Heading West as the sun's going down gives me a sense of homecoming, even though I'm actually travelling away from home (Avondale). With stacks of time to pick up a meal on the go, and to check the last time I could catch a train out of the township before the track closed down and rail buses took over for the night, I made my way up the Great North Road, across the old Coronation Bridge (formally opened by John Bollard of Avondale, then MHR for Eden, although there's scarce mention of that usually) and over the level crossing to the arts centre.

The floors inside, although polished and varnished, still show the trails of the long-gone wood worm on some of the boards (but not others. Did the beasties only get so far in their voracious foraging, were some of the boards replaced, or was some of the restoration more successful on one half of a board than the other? The zones of munched versus unmunched seem to be spit down the length of the board, almost as if one part of the timber was a favoured meal over another). The floors are quite sound, though -- as I sat, quietly watching people move around in Brian Marsom's Great North Road photo exhibition, I heard the loud staccato tap-tap footsteps of one woman in winklepickers as she headed from one room to another.

A pity that there were no captions or titles or some other kind of word addition beside Brian's photos. The layout relied solely on people coming in one door (two rooms, so two doors), heading straight for the large typed-out reproduction of J. C. Loch's 1861 letter, reading it, I would imagine, with some of the place names (Henderson's Hill, should have been Henderson's Mill, Glengary in the Grey Lynn area, should have been Glengarry, and Rewa Creek, should have been Rewa Rewa Creek, in bold for easier reading). Then, blue arrows on the floor, punctuated by large red spots, indicated in which direction the viewer should walk. There were small, very small, numbers beside each one -- under electric light, and with my wonky vision, I had a hard time making them out for most of the journey around the room's walls. The explanation, the captions Brian had worked very hard to research and put together, were in the second room, in a plastic wall holder, in the middle of the journey, not the beginning. I listened to the viewers' comments while I was there -- many were trying to guess just what was photographed, and where the photographs were taken. Many viewed the photographs out of sequence, perhaps not realising there even was a sequence, as the arrows and spots were hard to see (but the children there noticed),

Brian's photographs are quite good, and many are taken from angles which do much to capture an essense of the road and its surroundings. I just think more emphasis should have been given to them in the way they were displayed, and his words highlighted a little more than they were.

Across the foyer, another exhibition that night: "Love and Food, the Family Photographs of Bob Raw". The blurb on the Arts Centre website says:

"Bob Raw was twelve years old in 1942 when he and his family moved to a house on Golf Road, New Lynn. He lived there for most of the next fifty years. He was a keen amateur photographer with an interest in recording the social and family environments around him. Proudly supported by Waitakere Library and Information Services.Part of the Auckland Festival of Photography."

These were family photographs, and part of West Auckland's social history. The gallery exhibition however did not enlarge the Box Brownie photos -- instead, they were displayed in a large sea of white, dead centre so the viewer had to peer at them to try to make out the details. To be sure, the purpose of the exhibition was to portray the photographs artistically rather than as a view on the past, perhaps -- but that view would have been enhanced if enlargements of the photos were perhaps alongside the originals. That, to me, would have brought out the wonder of seeing images from 50-60 years ago, out of suburban Auckland. Again, no captions, just the explanatory sheets of paper in a holder at the door. But, I had to remind myself as I left the room, disappointed, this is an art gallery, not a heritage museum. I tend to be an explorer though, not just a viewer.

Saying my farewells to Brian, I headed home again. The walk to the station, catching the evening train, and then walk home at the end was just 50 minutes, if that. Not bad for a public transport system in Auckland.

Early Chinese immigrants to Auckland

Ching Man WU, in her bibliography 19th & 20th century history of Chinese settlement in Auckland : a selective annotated bibliography of resources : submitted to the School of Information Management, Victoria University of Wellington in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Library and Information Studies (2007) included a mention of me on her acknowledgments page:

“Grateful acknowledgement must also be made to Ms. Lisa Truttman, who had shown me some of the relevant resources generally not known to the public.”

I knew her only as Cynthia, so – thanks, Cynthia, if ever you read this. Very, very cool being mentioned in your work, which is such a benefit to future researchers into the history of the Chinese here in Auckland.

She found some information (I’m not sure where) that a group of 12 Chinese arrived in Auckland in 1866 as market gardeners (page 8). However, I’ve been able to push that date back a bit, looking up Papers Past.

By late October 1865, a Chinese man named John Joss was already in Auckland, as were three fellow country-men, known in the papers only as O Chow, Comin, and Towniu. Joss claimed in court on 25 October that the three had knocked him down and beaten him with a stick. The case proved problematic, however, for the simple reason that there were no other Chinese dialect speakers around in Auckland at that time. The lack of interpreters meant that the Police Court had to abandon the case three times, despite Joss’ protests. The only other information available is that the three men who allegedly attacked Joss worked for a brewer named Mr. Kirkwood. (Southern Cross, 26, 28 and 30 October 1865)

The early Chinese in Auckland, though, were virtually invisible to the media’s eye. In late November 1866, Ex Ting had a coat stolen by one Robert Johnston (who was later apprehended by Detective Ternahan). No further information on that case, however. (Southern Cross, 1 December 1866) Only when one got into trouble – or, in the following instance, nearly lynched – is there recognition of their existence.

“We regret to learn that a shack, the property of the Hon. Colonel [Stephen Ponsonby] Peacocke, at Howick, was burned on Monday night, or rather after midnight on yesterday morning, by an incendiary — a vagrant Chinaman — who was previously unknown in the neighbourhood. The vagabond was taken into custody in the act — literally flagrante delicto. Most fortunately a neighbour was out of bed to a later hour than usual, and about one o'clock, seeing the glare of the flames, he rushed out, and, having given the alarm, he was the means of preventing the fire spreading to the neighbouring houses, in which were cattle and horses. The people took the incendiary into safe keeping for the purpose of his being handed over to the police. The damage is estimated at £50 or £60, and the property was uninsured. The people who caught the incendiary were naturally very indignant, and were half inclined to let him have in a personal and feeling manner, some benefit of his own handiwork.”

(Southern Cross, 26 May 1869)

The tour in 1870 by Chang Woo Gow , the Chinese Giant, did raise public awareness in a way – though possibly just in surprise that “John Chinaman” could grow that tall.

“The great specialty in the amusement line at the present time is the public exhibition .of the truly great Chinaman Chang Woo Gow, and his little wife Kin Foo. It is almost invariably a rule that a tall man selects a small woman for his wife, and a small man a tall muscular woman, but never have we seen a disparity as between the above two. Kin Foo is under the ordinary size of women, and Chang towers up to eight feet, and is stout-built in proportion. From three to five o'clock he was, in the City Hall, when a great many people visited him, and chatted with him and his wife. He was dressed in the embroidered robe of a mandarin. In the evening he was in the Prince of Wales Theatre, and those who compared their heights with him looked like pigmies beside him.”

(Southern Cross, 26 October 1870)

Finally, a court case where the race of the defendant (Chinese), was entirely incidental to the fact that his lawyer was making a legal point during the trial.

“A curious question cropped up at the Police Court, when the Chinaman, [James] Ah Foo, was charged with attempting to defraud H M Customs. He was about to step into the dock, when his solicitor, Mr. Joy, L.L.B , called him back and told him to place himself at the bar. A discussion then took place between Mr. Barstow and Mr. Joy as to whether the dock was the proper place for Ah Foo or not. His Worship said that the dock was for prisoners, and the bar for defendants only. What constituted a prisoner was being arrested by warrant. Ah Foo had been arrested by warrant, and had therefore been placed in the dock when first brought before the Court. Mr. Joy argued that as Ah Foo was only liable to a fine or imprisonment, and had been released on bail, it was not right to put him in the dock. His Worship said that Ah Foo in surrendering to his bail had surrendered himself again into the custody of the police. His Worship, however, did not insist on the point, and Ah Foo consequently remained at the bar.”

Despite all the legal posturing, Ah Foo was found guilty of evading customs duty on 1½ lbs of cigars, fined £11 5s, and ordered to be imprisoned until the fine was paid. (Southern Cross, 25 November 1876)

Off the Rails

Today, for a while, I was without my CPU. Such things as the ol' computer developing a bit of a tizz and going haywire happens, I know -- but I really don't like being without the Black Beast, as I affectionately call my good ol' workhorse which hums away beside me as I type more guff into its storage areas.

Feeling definitely at a loose end -- I turned to my (still quite small) DVD collection, and Off the Rails.

Result: I could bliss out watching Marcus Lush travel through our railway heritage, both the stuff I haven't seen (yet) and the stuff I have, the time passed until it was time to call the repair shop, and now the CPU is back where it should be. (Lots of dust clogging the fans was the diagnosis, by the way).

If you're a railfan, rail enthusiast, or simply like seeing NZ sights and scenery and characters, buy the DVD. Made in 2005, it's still a gem.

More Anzac Day discussion

Reading the Maps posted yesterday on the topic of the future of Anzac Day. The comments as well as the post are worth a read.

Wanganui or Whanganui?

The Wanganui District Council have issued a research report by Diana Beaglehole on the question of whether the "h" came first or not, with regard to their city's name. Have a read (.pdf) -- looks like the battle over the "h" may not be as cut-and-dried as it first seemed.

"That most New Zealand of days ..."

I heard (or read) someone recently say this, referring to Anzac Day. Reading this post from Reading the Maps reminded me of that -- and also, that I agree that the events around the Land Wars here on our own soil should have more significance (and, in my opinion, they do) than those on Gallipoli. But, World Wars are a fascination for children. They're something that happened still within the last century, and during the period of both good photography and the motion picture. The Land Wars are portraits and painted scenes in corners of museums, a piece of scrimshaw, the occasional diorama. It's usually a regional thing. The New Zealand Wars series used some CGI to bring the events to life for new generations, but against the ready-to-consume emotions around the World Wars, it hasn't much hope of competing for a place on the national consciousness.

We should have a "most New Zealand of days" around the Land Wars, the New Zealand Wars. But, I doubt that anything beyond the confusion of Waitangi Day (do we celebrate the Treaty that day or how it was breached?) will happen in my lifetime.

Image from Wiki.

Huia Settlers Museum

I was very fortunate today. A good friend of mine and President of the West Auckland Historical Society, Trevor Pollard, took me out on a site visit to Huia and Whatipu, part of planning for next year's NZ Federation of Historical Societies conference. This meant finally, at long, long last, I got to be able to see the Huia Settlers Museum, home to a collection of HMS Orpheus memorabilia, amongst lots of other things.

The museum is situated in the Karamatura Valley (I can tell you, even on a rainy day like today, it is a gorgeous setting). It opened on 10 March 1984 after "two years of planning, negotiation, fund raising, collecting and eventually building," to quote from their brochure. It is wholly owned and administered by the local community. It was established "to collect, preserve and disp;ay items that represent the way of life of the early settlers of the Huia and surrounding districts of the Waitakere Ranges and Manukau shoreline." The museum is open Saturdays, Sundays and public holidays.

Even across the road from the museum, interesting stuff can be seen.

While inside, stuffed birds preen, or take flight next to old irons and a cast iron, copper lined clothes boiler (this one, below, once property of the Turner family of Huia).

The museum's maritime displays, for all its compact size, are well-worth a long browse through. Here's a model of the scow Alma, the boat itself built in 1902 by G. T. Niccol of Auckland.

But, star of the show is the HMS Orpheus collection. This is a cast iron lid from a water tank on the ill-fated ship.

A piece of copper sheathing.


A piece of the ship's inner railing, a baluster made into a lamp.

Outside, under cover, the remains of a section of the main mast, 10 feet from deck level, and 10 feet below the "main tops" platform. According to the interpretive sign above it: "It was recovered from the Kaipara Harbour entrance in October 1991 and brought to this museum in February 1992, after being sighted periodically during the intervening 121 years."

Certainly a lot to see at this museum so close to the edge of the Auckland region -- even this odd sight -- a blackface figure seemingly fixed to a sewing machine treadle table. Hopefully, I'll have a chance to take another look at the museum again next year. I'll ask then what the story is behind it.

Lighting up the ol' Town Hall

Because it was buried in the business section of the online NZ Herald this week, I had missed this article on Telecom's show lighting up the Auckland Town Hall to promote their new mobile network. As luck would have it, two of my dear friends, Bill and Barbara Ellis attended the Birkenhead Historical Society AGM as I did yesterday, then said they were heading into the city to take pictures of the Town Hall lit up. Still in complete ignorance, I asked to tag along. Glad I did.

The light show was beautiful -- but, it being at night, and me with next to no night-time photo skills, I pretty well thought I was done in. The first thumbnail (click for a larger view for each one via Photobucket) is the result of trying to take a photo of the display with just normal flash/exposure time. Then, I started to tinker with the Fireworks setting. The initial results, while spectacular, were nothing really to write home about. Shots 2 - 4 below testify to that. I was about to give up, when Barbara suggested resting the camera against a lamp post. So, carefully avoiding the patches of human expectorate on the footpath near one of the poles, I gave it my best -- er -- shot. The rest were taken using this method (a tripod, though, would have been a neat thing to have had at the time). All in all, though -- I don't care that none of these are picture-perfect -- I had a lot of fun, and it was all as spontaneous as anything. As my mum used to tell me -- spontaneous fun is sometimes the best to have, no matter what happens.

First time I've experimented with thumbnails on Timespanner using my old Photobucket account as well. There might be more in the future.

"We Are Fourth!" -- A Tribute to Auckland

A slight diversion from the usual theme around here ... but, I am a proud Aucklander ...

They tell us on the 28th of April that Auckland came fourth in another one of those world-ranking list things (they seem to come out all the time, and none of them agree), and by 6th of May a YouTube vid was up online. Satirical Auckland at its best.

If you have speakers, turn 'em on. If you haven't, get 'em and plug 'em into the ports.

And if you're able, donate to the charity Cure Kids which is what this is all about.

Huapai's Pink Spot

Map image via Zenbu.

Article here, on the Stuff site.

An earlier article gave more info on its history.

A Slice of Huapai history is licked.

The old Pink Spot Dairy building, famous for its icecreams, milkshakes and lollies, will be demolished soon to make way for a carpark.

But its name lives on in a new and larger building on the same Main Rd site where the Bhagalia family will continue to run it after 16 years.

Built just after World War Two, different nor-west families have operated it since its humble beginnings as the first post office and one of the first stores in Huapai.

Graham Andrew recalls growing up working in the store with his three siblings after his mother Jean and her husband Frank Rumble bought it from original owner Mrs Savage.

They ran it from 1950 to 1965.

"It’s been an icon in the district for quite a while," says Mr Andrew, who lived in Huapai for 50 years and has strong ties to community groups such as the Kumeu Agricultural and Horticultural Society and Huapai-Kumeu Lions.

He says their family developed it into a grocery and milk bar.

"In those days we had great milkshakes with the milk straight from the cow since the farm was across the road."

Mr Andrew says "a government man" used to watch the store to ensure they upheld the law prohibiting trade on Saturdays and Sundays.

"It was quite funny."

The family built a house behind the store but there was no room for a garage so Graham and his brother built a shed as a "school project".

Red tape didn’t allow the front of the store to be refurbished because it was too close to the road.

Getting to know locals was easy with people catching up at the store and romances blossoming.

Graham met his wife Sharon because her father owned the nearby Huapai Hotel.

So did Kumeu resident Dale Wallace (nee Haven) who as a teenager worked in the dairy where her husband Allan asked her out for the first time 43 years ago.

Icecream and lollies were her favourite part of the job.

"It was like a little rural township. We knew everybody," says Mrs Wallace, whose family came from Helensville and who is instrumental in running the annual Rotary Kumeu Christmas parade.

The store was named The Pink Spot by former bubbly owner Colleen Matuschka, now Colleen McKay, who painted the place in that colour.

"There was a red phonebox in front that clashed with my dairy so I painted it and decorated it with pink spotted curtains, a fluffy seat and pink roses. All the tourists would use it."

That earned her a stand against Telecom and a stint on radio about the phonebox."It was neat fun. I also started a cafe in there with pink curtains and tablecloths and white seats. There was a large pink spot on the building with our name on it," says Mrs McKay.

The Bhagalias look forward to seeing their regular customers in the new and improved store.

Brothers Kirit and Dilip Bhagalia and Kirit’s wife Sangita and their three children Dharti, Nikisha and Nikesh say they’ve always felt safe and enjoyed the friendly, helpful attitude of customers since owning the business from 1982.

"We’ve met a lot of older people who said they used to come when they were children to get icecreams, ice blocks and lollies. They say they used to live in the area or work in the shop," says Kirit.

I remember that shop, passed by it a ton of times while going to and from Helensville on the bus. It was one of the SH16 landmarks, in my opinion. I know times do have to change, but it is a bit sad when the changes happen. Still, at least they say the name will stick around.

I don't think Huapai will be short of icons just yet, however. Each Jandal Festival, the Prime Minister's electorate office in Huapai took part by sporting a pair of jandals on the roof. So, there'll still be stuff to turn heads up there.

Waterview Heritage Character Study (2006): now online

This was researched and written by Jack Dragicevich, and published by the Avondale-Waterview Historical Society in 2006, in response to earlier plans for the SH20 motorway where it was reported that hundreds of houses in Waterview would be bowled. Since then, we've seen the tunnel idea come and go -- and now, we're back to around 300 houses likely to be demolished for the new motorway.

Here are the links to the complete book, online at Scribd:

Preface.
Acknowledgments
Introduction
Chapter 1: Early Settlement (19th century Waterview)

Chapter 2: The Move Towards Suburban Development (1900-1930)

Chapter 3: The State Housing Era (1930s-1950s)
Chapter 4: The Modern Era (1960s-2006)
Photo supplement part 1
Photo supplement part 2
Waterview Street Names
Summary
Index

Waterview and the motorway

Latest Herald article online.

Whichever way this goes, the SH20 extension through Waterview and along the Oakley Creek will compromise environmental, ecological and heritage values in that area. I'm just finishing off a piece for the Point Chevalier Times on what happened with SH16 was finished off through Pt Chevalier -- every where I turn, these days, there's more motorway stuff, it seems.

I'll be back later with some links to Scribd -- Jack Dragicevich has given me permission to put his Waterview Heritage Study online. Thanks, Jack, and thanks also to Phil who emailed me about Waterview and the motorway today (keep in touch, Phil, and keep asking those questions.)

Fireworks come to the Auckland Domain, 1903

These days, Aucklanders almost take for granted that, each year, there will be spectacular fireworks shows in the volcanic crater of the Domain, the cricket ground beside the War Memorial Museum. I’ve been to a couple myself, for one wrapped in a warming blanket gazing upward at a brightly illuminated night sky. (My friend Mad Bush will surely back me up that the walk back to the city across the Grafton Bridge, from that one, in a massive tide of people at 11 o’clock at night or so is an experience as well!) But, more than a hundred years ago, such events were still a wondrous novelty.

It was late 1903. Already, those New Zealanders lucky enough to do so had witnessed fireworks spectaculars across the Tasman at Sydney and Melbourne since the turn of the new century. Some small displays had been offered before in Auckland but, so it seems, not at the Domain before now. For 28th October 1903, the Crystal Palace Fireworks Company promised Aucklanders a real treat.

“Mr T. Gaunt, the company's expert, has given some very large displays in Australia. The first programme will consist of the bombardment of the Taku Forts in China by six battleships built entirely of fireworks. The ships will manoeuvre and fire broadside, finally silencing and blowing up the forts. In addition, there will be a general display, of fireworks, consisting of mechanical figures, such as performing monkeys on horizontal bars, flying pigeons, dovecotes, and cyclists riding, clowns on see-saw, etc. Then there are revolving wheels, small wheels, large wheels, and wheels within wheels, revolving suns, Oriental trees, Chinese pagodas, Niagara Falls of liquid fires, and innumerable designs, all in fireworks. The grounds will be brilliantly illuminated with Chinese lanterns and fairy lights, and a first-class promenade concert will be given during the evening by the First Battalion Infantry Band. The Cricket Ground is easily accessible from all parts of the city and suburbs, and owing to the natural formation, the displays cannot be seen without going inside. This will stop that class of people who dearly love a show for nothing.”

(Observer, 24 October 1903)

All, however, did not go entirely to plan. The display was witnessed by an estimated 10,000 people, “one of the biggest crowds which was ever seen on the Domain cricket .ground”, but some “disgraceful scenes” took place. “On account of the very inadequate arrangements made at the gates… the crowds taking charge and pressing past the Carrier at the main entrance … Altogether upwards of 25 per cent of those on the ground gained admission without payment. (Bay Of Plenty Times, 30 October 1903) That wasn’t the half of it. The Auckland Star later reported that the event had been “ruined by larrikins who invaded the grounds, smashed the fittings, and stole a great deal of the fireworks …” (Star, 28 November 1903) Well, I suppose they may have expected that they were asking for trouble, having such a display so close to Guy Fawkes …

“There was a dreadful rush to get on the Domain Cricket Ground on the night of the fireworks. Some people waited for nearly an hour before they could get tickets, and hundreds got so tired that they went in without paying, and through a gate, too. There were some police present, but their eyes were on the fences and not on the gates, as one stout lady found to her sorrow. Despairing of entering any other way, the dame, in company with another, boldly essayed to escalade the hedge. Her companion got through all right, but the obese dowager found herself suddenly seized by the foot. With a yell she turned round, and saw a most ungallant bobby tugging at her new prunella Number Ten. She raised her umbrella to strike, when she suddenly capsized and fell inside the fence. The sudden jerk caused her boot to slip, and the constable collapsed on the other side. The contesting parties did not meet again, and the lady saw the fireworks standing on one foot. What the policeman did with the boot is not recorded.

(Observer, 7 November 1903)

Undaunted, Mr. Gaunt soldiered on, offering we colonials another taste of his pyrotechnic magic in time for King Edward VII’s birthday on 9th November.

"Those who want to wind up the King's Birthday appropriately, and at the same time secure an hour or two of pure enjoyment, will do well to visit the Domain Cricket Ground on Monday, evening. The Crystal Palace Fireworks Company, whose local representative is Mr. W. H. Hazard, have arranged to carry out in its entirety the grand programme that was somewhat wantonly interfered with on its first presentation, last week. Every precaution has been taken to suppress the exuberant larrikin, and the public may feel confident that their comfort will be conserved. The display includes a series of fairy illuminations, rockets, bombs, etc., in bewildering variety, and; will wind up with a realistic representation of the historic bombardment of the Taku Forts by the British and French some forty years ago. This is the battle in which the French admiral is alleged by a veracious bluejacket to have committed suicide by shooting himself, while the British admiral exhibited what appeared to be cowardice, but that is another story. There will be a musical concert with appropriate items and the Battalion Band will attend and play a number of selections.”

(Observer, 7 November 1903)

The promoters promised faithfully that “interference with the Comfort of Patrons or the Progress of the Performance will be promptly suppressed.”

I don’t have the reports to hand as to how this show went, but Mr Hazard and Mr. Gaunt were back again for another go on 27 November. This time, the police were definitely out in force. They reported success against the larrikins, but “not without considerable difficulty.

One John O’Brien (22) was charged the next day in the police court with “using threatening behaviour in the Auckland Domain with intent, to cause a breach of the peace, and also with resisting Constable Macartney in the execution of his duty.” Leonard De Courcy (18) was charged with “inciting persons to assault Constable Macartney”. The constable testified that several stones were thrown, striking him and others tasked with watching the fence around the display area. He saw O’Brien “leaning over the fence brandishing a piece of wood, and trying to strike one of the men inside.” O’Brien apparently legged it on being spotted by the constable, but during the chase threw several of the reported stones, joined in that sport by his companions as O’Brien struggled to avoid capture and arrest. “Stone the police!” came the shouts. O’Brien was offered a choice of £5 fine or a month’s hard labour – he chose the latter. (Auckland Star, 28 November 1903)

The Crystal Palace Fireworks Company went on to stage two more shows that year, and both appeared to be as successful but not so criminally dramatic as the previous ones. Despite the rocky start, Auckland’s love affair with public (free) firework displays at the Domain had begun.

Advertisement image from Papers Past.Click on it for magnified view.

All Welcome at the Pt Chevalier History Group meetings

Heading into the Pt Chevalier Community Library last week for our meeting -- this is what greeted us in the foyer.

The sign was drawn up by a staff member at the library. As something utterly ephemeral, a piece of artwork with markers on a whiteboard -- I reckon it's darn well impressive. If anyone wants to know how supportive the local library has been of the new history group -- here's proof.

“Blown to Atoms” – the end of the “Cloud”, 10 November 1909

Image: A hulk in Toulon, 19th century. From Wiki.

To those of us here in the television age, the story leading up to the end of the Auckland Harbour Board’s powder hulk Cloud in November 1909 could read almost like a “Seconds from Disaster” script. Or perhaps an old-style “Boy’s Own” adventure.

Hulks, ships demasted and converted to become floating warehouses and prisons, had been in use for centuries. In New Zealand, one of the earliest examples was the Marion, a former barque used as a powder magazine early in the 1860s. In 1862, due to a risk of her sinking with a load of gunpowder on board (a considerable amount was indeed ruined by the water - Southern Cross, 28 February 1862) the Marion later served as a holding place for Maori prisoners during the Waikato War. In November 1864 the hulk was sold by the Crown via J. S. Macfarlane, along with a quantity of coal, to Henderson & Macfarlane, and served as a coal hulk. In early April 1866, the hulk sank during a gale off the Auckland Harbour breakwater with 500 tons of coal on board. Now, the Marion impeded shipping, so efforts to raise her were made in August, but without success. The Public Works Department made a successful attempt to clear the sunken wreck with gunpowder from 23-25 January 1867. In a way, she returned in 1907, when pieces of timber dredged up by the Auckland Harbour Board 300 feet from the Railway Wharf were thought at the time to be from the Marion’s remains. (Taranaki Herald, 5 September 1907)

Back to the 1870s. The departure of the 18th regiment in 1870, leaving behind a considerable quantity of explosives, caused the Southern Cross to ponder whether it was time for the authorities to consider purchasing a powder hulk. (SC, 8 April 1870) As it turned out, a powder magazine was set up at Mt Eden gaol, but by 1876, the Harbour Board itself considered whether it was worth while buying a hulk to use for the storage of explosives, to encourage importers to stop using storage areas at Queen Street wharf. (SC, 12 July 1876)

It took a while – quite a long while – but, the Observer reported in July 1899 that a hulk had been purchased by the Chairman of the Harbour Board, William J. Napier. This despite the preference for a dry land magazine store by Auckland merchants. (Observer, 8 July 1899) This purchase appears to have been that of the 350 ton former barque Cloud, originally built in Spain, according to later post-explosion reports from the Herald and Star. The first reference I was able to find for the Cloud via Papers Past was when she had had a mishap in late April 1898: her main top gallant-mast had been carried away while en route from Lady Elliot Island to Dunedin, forcing her to put into Sydney for repairs. (Grey River Argus 2 May 1898) Duly repaired, the Cloud continued trans-Tasman trading, purchased by a Mr. Carlan from Auckland (or, this could have been Carlaw, as the later papers reported the owners as the Carlaw Brothers), and on 28th February 1899 she left Newcastle, loaded with coal and bound for Wellington. Arriving at Wellington, the coal discharged, the Cloud then sailed for Port Albert to reload for a return voyage across the Tasman to Sydney (Evening Post, 30 March 1899).

Then, a year after the mast mishap off the New South Wales coast, the Cloud ran aground after leaving the wharf at Port Albert. She had just been loaded with timber – now, in early May 1899, she was badly damaged, taking on water. Her deck cargo was removed to try to refloat her, but eventually the insurance company declared her unsalvageable, and agreed to have her towed to Auckland for repairs “as a raft” to be sold. (Evening Post, 11 May 1899) The end of her career was to be as the Auckland Harbour Board’s powder magazine hulk – dismantled and converted by W. H. Brown for the Board.

For the next ten years, the Observer tut-tutted about the Cloud and the Auckland Harbour Board’s decision to buy same, and how it really didn’t appear to be used for the purpose.

“The Harbour Board appears to have pursued a very blundersome policy in the matter of powder storage. After spending pretty nearly £1500 on a hulk, and paying a man something like £2 a week to look after her, month after month has gone by and not en ounce of powder has been stored in her yet. And, by all accounts, there is no likelihood that any will be stored there. These extravagant blunders are too frequent.”

(Observer, 27 January 1900)

“The powder hulk has proved its title to be included amongst the list of the Harbour Board's white elephants. During the year, it has involved a loss of just about £80 on working expenses, to say nothing whatever of interest, depreciation, insurance, and other charges. The cost of the hulk was£ls6o, so that at 5 per cent, this represents £78 for interest, and, at 10 per cent.,--£156 for depreciation. Seeing that the gross earnings of the hulk are £12 17s 4d per month, it is difficult to see how it is going to pay expenses, apart altogether from the other charges.”

(Observer, 14 December 1901)

Eventually, it seems, the agents for explosives importers and manufacturers did begin to use the hulk as intended. Originally the Cloud was anchored off Bean Rock but, when it was felt that this location was a hazard to shipping, the hulk was moved to a spot near the mouth of the Tamaki River and St Heliers. On 10 November 1909, there were 22 tons of explosives on board, mainly blasting powder in loose and pellet form, with the remainder of the weight being gelignite. It was by no means fully loaded – but there was enough for the bang.

Earlier that month, Mr. Finch had been appointed as the custodian of the hulk. He and his wife lived on board the powder magazine for ten days, with all their furniture, clothing, and savings. At six o’clock in the morning on the 10th of November, Finch woke up and started to wash down the decks as he did every morning. His wife cooked breakfast for them both in the galley, located in the vessel’s after-end. He smelled burning as he worked, went to check to see if Mrs. Finch was burning wood in her stove, but she wasn’t. Mystified, Finch returned to work – then saw smoke coming up from the hatch.

Going down below, he was confronted by a dense cloud of smoke in the hold, but he couldn’t make out where it was coming from. Heading back up, he told a reporter from the Herald, he noticed a red glare through an aperture in the scroll. At this point, he took up an axe to cut through the decking – only to find that, by then, “the whole of the interior was one great, glowing mass”.

The couple then proceeded desperately to put out the fire, Mr. Finch bringing up buckets of sea water, while Mrs. Finch brought buckets of water from the deck’s tanks. Eventually, the tanks ran out, and Mrs. Finch collapsed from exhaustion. Finch then placed her in the available small boat, and cut it adrift. Then, he went back to trying to douse the flames.

Eventually, he decided to try to scuttle the vessel, but there was a delay in finding a tool to smash through the hull (he found a blunt axe – it isn’t reported what he’d done with the one with which he’d earlier chopped through the decking) and when he got down in the forward hold, it was too smoky to breathe. After two attempts, he collapsed unconscious on the deck, only to regain consciousness and find that the fire had now reached the decking. At that point, finally, he realised there was no hope of saving the hulk from the fire. He leapt overboard and swam for the small boat. He just barely managed to reach it before his strength gave out – his wife hauled him up out of the water. Together, they rowed for a reef off the Tamaki coast, and were picked up there by the scow Ida, which took them to North Head. All the while, what remained of the Cloud burned – until at 20 minutes past 1 in the afternoon, it blew up.

George Taylor, signalman at Mt. Victoria station at Devonport, had seen the vessel clearly that morning as it had started to burn. He heard the explosion, saw the tall pillar of smoke, and immediately telephoned the Harbour Board office. When the smoke cleared, there was not a trace left of the hulk. As the Herald had headlined the story, it was as if the Cloud had blown completely to atoms.

The shock of the explosion, actually two separate blasts in succession, was felt and heard over the entire isthmus, along the North Shore, and as far away as Henderson and the Coromandel Peninsula. At the time, it was regarded as the biggest explosion Auckland had ever experienced, and likened by many to that of an earthquake shock, or something like the eruption at Tarawera from 1886. Everyone feared for the Finches’ safety – but Mr. Finch, completing his unexpected day of derring-do, reported as soon as he could later that afternoon to the Harbour Board office. (I can only imagine what was said: “I wish to report, with regret, sir, that your powder hulk has blown up. Sorry about that ...”)

The Herald’s account of the story is a descriptive gem – so much so that the Observer, with a very evident sigh, remarked:

“The sensation of the week has been the blowing up of the powder hulk — or, rather, not so much the blowing up as the "Herald's" account of it. The "Star " lamentably failed to rise to the occasion, and Grandma evidently registered a solemn vow to get ahead of her reptile contemporary, or bust. She got ahead per medium of three and a-half columns of penny dreadful reading, surmounted by thrilling and awe-inspiring double-column headlines. Undoubtedly, the most wonderful part of the affair was the narrative of Finch, the caretaker of the hulk. Anybody who will deliberately remain for hours in a burning powder hulk is either a hero or something else. However, 'tis a certainty that nobody can contradict Finch's yarn, even if he desired to do so.

"Grandma's thrilling yarn was rich in unconscious humour, and the further it went the richer it became, leading people to the supposition that the frenzied scribe who wrote it drew his information from peculiar sources. The gem of the whole collection is undoubtedly this thriller: "A workman engaged on the erection of a house at St. Helier's Bay had his hat blown off, and another had to make a second attempt to light his pipe."

"This, when you come to think of it, is simply sublime. Evidently, in Grandma's opinion, it is quite an uncommon occurrence for a man, even when working on a roof on a windy day, to have his hat blown off, or to make two attempts to light his pipe. It's lucky we don't have a powder hulk explosion every day. If we did, the venerable female would go mad — or madder than she is already. “

(Observer, 20 November 1909)

That said, though, the Observer still published a long and flowery poem in Finch’s honour. Finch, it is said, was cleared of culpability, although it was suggested that sparks from the galley may have found their way into the hold, starting the fire off.

The whole affair came to a close in June the following year with the Auckland Harbour Board successfully sued by the explosives owners for £1069 13s. (Evening Post) According to Paul Titchener in his local history articles later that century, the Harbour Board then decided it was wisest to set up a powder magazine on land instead. I’d say such a store would definitely have been “no cooking allowed”.

Makaurau Marae and the airport

Image from Wiki. Originally sourced from LINZ, crown copyright.

An article today from the NZ Herald caught my eye.

"The buried remains of 85 bodies have been exhumed by construction of the second runway at Auckland Airport - angering local Maori whose ancestors were unearthed.

The airport company first discovered koiwi - skeletal pre-European remains believed to be more than 600 years old - in March last year.

An archaeological report of the findings has been sent to the Historic Places Trust but members of the Makaurau Marae, in Mangere, say the desecration of waahi tapu must stop.

Marae spokesman Saul Roberts said that Auckland International Airport Ltd was shown burial sites in the proposed second runway "before a spade was put in the ground".

The airport company was granted authority by the Historic Places Trust to go ahead with the $32 million project, so any remains accidentally dug up could be removed."

The marae authorities expected one or two exhumations, but 85 sets of remains have been taken, and they say there could be many more.

According to this site:

"Makaurau Marae is one of many Marae in Mangere that are affiliated with the Tainui area. The people of Makaurau Marae are affiliated to the sub-tribes of Te Waiohua and Te Akitai, and have direct links to Te Ahiwaru, which is a descendant of the Chiefs of the Tainui Region."

Te Waiohua once held the mana as tangata whenua over the Tamaki Makaurau area, the isthmus of Auckland, with its last paramount chief Kiwi Tamaki defeated by Ngati Whatua as recently as the late 18th century. I was aware that the Mangere area was where the Waiouhua people fled during the war which ended their hold of the isthmus.

The Waitangi Tribunal looked at Maori claims in the Manukau area back in 1985, including the area around the airport and the sewerage purification works, but then (as they were looking at specific instances such as civil defence areas and fishing restrictions) they came to the conclusion that:

The Auckland International Airport was cited as an example of the way recent major developments for Auckland have been proposed on or near to the last remaining pieces of Maori land. After hearing submissions on behalf of the Auckland Regional Authority and the Civil Aviation Division of the Ministry of Transport, we are satisfied that the Mangere site was not chosen, as some thought, because some of the affected lands were Maori land and therefore easy to acquire. It appears that a number of other factors influenced the site decision made by Cabinet in 1955. By the same token there was no indication that Maori land was involved. No consideration was given to the fact that Maoris ought to be protected in the ownership of their land. We were referred to only one factor seen as an obstacle, namely "that the area was high quality agricultural land (dairying)".

And that, then, was that.

I'd need to know more about this before spouting an opinion, but if human remains are being unearthed without the apparent consent of those claiming descendancy, surely there must be something out of kilter, here. A lot of trouble was taken when the graves were removed for the original Grafton Gully motorway project last century. I'd have thought that similar respect would have been accorded here.