The ladies at Mortimer Pass

My friends the Ellises had spotted this control box earlier, and sent me a photo. Today, I got a chance to stop off at Newmarket at take a good look at it.

 

 

A photo blog: Auckland-West

I really do urge you to check out Auckland-West, where the photographer has captured some wonderful images of sights west of Queen Street in Auckland. (He has a photo of the Avondale Lions Hall there, and thanked me for putting information on it online via the Avondale Historical Journal. Hence how I've come to find his blog.)

Maungaturoto Memories

Just popped another link onto the left-hand list: Maungaturoto Memories, an off-shoot site from Back Roads. I like the title graphics there, very snazzy! Wishing you all the best, Liz and Amy.

An update from historical research madness

Timespanner's been a fair bit quiet of late -- but I will return soon. Had some projects on my plate which have diverted my attention, both in the way of my occupation and the voluntary bits and pieces I get involved with. Currently, I working on a speech and power point presentation on land history records research, called Fine Lines, to present in a couple of months time at the Auckland City Library. Might see about getting the slides and text published online later, if I can. See you later.

The day New Zealand bombarded Australia

Updated 11 June 2025.

It was the afternoon of Friday, 4 March 1955, when Mrs. S. Elliott, wife of the postmaster at Currarong, on the New South Wales coast, noticed that the post office was under attack.

“Those were not just splinters that fell here. They were honest-to-goodness shells. They exploded with terrific bangs – every one of them. It was about 4 o’clock when I heard the first one. It went off with a terrific crash, and bits of metal started falling all over the place. There were two more and everyone came running into the post office shouting for me to call the Navy.

“I called the naval station and ran out to see the last shell crash down near a boat with two fishermen in it about 100 yards off the beach, right in front of us. It sent up a terrific shower of water – a great mushroom of it – and nearly sank the boat.

“The fishermen came into the post office later and said that bits of shrapnel had whistled all around them after the shell exploded. It’s all right now that it’s over. But somebody could have been seriously hurt.”

(Auckland Star, 8 March 1955)

The culprit? The Kiwi cruiser, HMNZS Black Prince, on manoeuvres at the time with the Australian Navy. I've spoken to an ex-sailor from the Black Prince at that time, and it appears that the guns failed to lock onto the intended target properly as the ship sailed along the coast – instead of a bombardment aimed at an area nearby used for gunnery practice, the township copped the fire. The only official damage reported at the time was a splinter which went through a roof.

Mrs. Dorothy Bromley, wife of a garage and café owner in the township, said, “Splinters, my eye. They were fair dinkum shells … I dropped everything. I thought the end had come.”

It was said at the time that it was an accident. For some reason (rather ominously perhaps) the acting NZ Prime Minister Keith Holyoake kept denying that it was accidental at all. “There was no question of even accidental bombardment of the town by the New Zealand cruiser Black Prince,” he is reported as stating. (Star, 8 March 1955)

SHELLING OF NSW TOWN
Incident In Cruise Of Black Prince
"TREATED AS GREAT JOKE BY RESIDENTS”
 (New Zealand Press Association) AUCKLAND, March 21.
 The accidental shelling of the New South Wales town of Currarong by HMNZS Black Prince early this month was treated as a great joke by the Australians, said Captain G R Davis-Goff, RNZN, today. In fact, he said, the incident was used by the residents as an excuse for a party.

"Captain Davis-Goff, who is head of the New Zealand joint services liaison staff in Melbourne and RNZN liaison officer in Australia, arrived at Auckland by the Wanganella today for talks with the New Zealand Naval Board at Wellington. An electrical fault caused the rear turret of the Black Prince to swing too far, and a salvo straddled the town, said Captain Davis-Goff. One shell landed short, one went over the top, and one went in the “ditch.” There were no broken windows and no splinters, he said, no damage at all.

"The New Zealanders seemed to be more worried about it than the Australians,” he said. "As soon as the Black Prince returned to Jervis Bay her commander (Captain J F Whitfeld) drove 36 miles in a jeep to apologise to the townsfolk. To the people of Currarong this was the signal for a party, and Captain Whitfeld was royally entertained.

 “But the Australians had a bit of their own back,” added Captain Davis-Goff. “Captain Whitfeld was wearing tropical shorts, and the mosquitoes had a wonderful time. Captain Whitfeld swore they were as big as sparrows.”

(Press, 23 March 1955)

The last I’ll add to this (for now, pending more info), comes from here:

“HMNZS Black Prince accidentally bombards the post office at Currarong, near Jervis Bay NSW. It is not known what offensive capacity the post office had or what level of threat it posed to our vessel.”

New Zealand Card Index

The librarians at the Auckland Research Centre told me about this a few weeks ago -- over the weekend, I did some digging at the Auckland Library website and found it: the New Zealand Card Index. There are transcription errors (there's a great "report errors" feature, though) but I think so far that this is a cracker of an online resource into our history. Another link for the list.

An Update (27 February): The Index was officially launched last Wednesday, 24 February. Unfortunately, though, it's best seen using Internet Explorer. The images of the cards themselves don't appear in Firefox (sad, because that's my browser of choice). Good thing that Firefox has a "View in IE" add-on, though.

Further update (2 March): The Council's IT expert has been onto it, and the link altered to allow better access using Firefox. Links updated here.

Australia Trove

Australia Trove

I've only just found this (oi, Jayne! Have you been holding out on me??)

You may think it odd why I'm adding an Aussie historical search site to my Kiwi history blog -- but, let's face it: Australian and New Zealand history are very closely linked, and anything that could make finding out what really happened way back when has my support.

And yes, this is going on the links list.

Pieces of culture

More items from the Auckland War Memorial Museum.

Above is a pram, built by Dick & Cowden's pram works at Newton, according to the descriptive text below. I haven't any info on that factory at the moment -- but this reminds me more of a kiddies' toy pram than one you'd use for the baby of the family.

This I had to take a shot of, once I realised who had owned it. Built from Australian cedar at the Hokianga  in 1845-1850 by William Webster (1816-1895), an early saw-miller, it is displayed with this description:

"In 1845 he began to make a pipe organ in his leisure hours, using an Australian Cedar log for the case and Kauri, Kahikatea, Matai and Tenekaha. The organ has a compass of four and a half octaves. The white keys (naturals) were made of whales' teeth obtained by trade from the Bay of Islands and the black keys (sharps) were dyed with the same dye used by the Maori for their mats. The brass bellows gauge was filed from the rudder of his rowing boat. The pedals and iron work were handmade in his own blacksmiths shop."

He gave the organ to his daughter Annabella Mary (1864-1955) on her marriage to John McKail Geddes, he who has a street named after him here in Avondale. Hence my interest.

 

Pottery by Helen Keir, late 19th century, "Moa and Clematis".

 

I couldn't find the description for these stairs under glass -- but I was taken with the design.

This is supposed to have been a barber's chair, designed  by Garnet Campbell around the middle of last century, for Kay's French Beauty Salon (1954) in Karangahape Road. Even if I was svelte and as light as a feather, I reckon I'd be way too scared to ever sit in that. And it was one of three in the salon! Egad.

Pickled culture

During my recent visit to the Auckland War Memorial Museum, and in particular the Weird & Wonderful section,  I found that one phrase transcends most language boundaries (there are a lot of tourists at the museum any time one visits. It's like walking into a United Nations convention. Very cool, though).

 

 "Oh, look! A Bart Simpson specimen!"

Out came the mobile phones, capturing the image of museum whimsy amidst the pickled species.

David Ross and his self-acting closet seat

Another of the oddities picked up from the old newspapers while looking for something completely different ...

"Mr David Ross, architect, formerly of Dunedin, has patented a double-purpose sanitary self-acting closet seat, a large working model of which may be seen on view at his office, Queen-street, by those interested in matters of sanitary science. The seat is self-acting as regards its rising motion, being hung on pivots at each side, and is made to rise up by having attached to it by two hooks or otherwise a counter-balancing weight. The advantages of it are: (1) Cleanliness; (2) economy, as it does away with the necessity for a urinal, and the cost of the same; (3) its compactness, as the "double-purpose" seat can be conveniently placed where there is not room for an ordinary seat and separate urinal. The advantage of its adoption in large hotels and public schools is very obvious, and requires no comment."

(NZ Herald, 22 September 1883)

Except to say that we don't have such toilet seats these days, except the ones we lift up ourselves. Well, at least not in common use. His patent that year wasn't the last for such contraptions.

Who was David Ross (1827-1908)? Quite a gifted architect, responsible for the Dunedin Athenaeum,  Dunedin Club, Moray Place Congregational Church, NZ Clothing Company Ltd building, and Warden's Court in Lawrence. After Dunedin, he moved to Auckland, and went to America and Japan.

He also, apparently, tinkered around with plans for the perfect toilet seat.

Devonport Wharf

From the Avondale-Waterview Historical Society collection: Devonport Wharf, here in Auckland, June 1992, just before its demolition and refurbishment. I think I must have passed through here, most likely as a kiddy on school trips.

 

It was reopened 10 October 1992 by Prince Edward, after a cost of $9 million. Here is the interior today.

  

  

  

And part of the exterior. It went through a period at the start of this decade of being virtually as empty as the first two photos up above, shop space lying vacant after an initial burst. It's finishing the decade packed and full of colour. There's even as regular farmers' market near the entrance on weekends.

 

Another old shop sign

Roy Turner, Ladies and Gents Hairdresser, at the top of Williamson Avenue, Grey Lynn,  just along from Foodtown. It's on one of the bus routes I often take, so I've seen this shop as a trendy African hairdresser, then a curry shop -- but now all that has gone away with the flow of financial storms, some of the past is revealed. Probably post World War II. I seem to recall a lot of the older type hairdressers had signage like this.

The photo is another of my "take it from inside the bus" shots. Hard to get the timing right (this is close to the intersection with Great North Road), but good because I can take it fairly well level.

Testament to façadism

I was heading along Mayoral Drive, a road in Auckland's CBD responsible for scores of demolition sites in the 1970s, and spotted another one:

That's the remains of a former parking garage in Greys Avenue, from the days in the 1920s to 1940s when you either parked your car there, or out in the open, on another of Auckland's demolition sites. The main one in those days was close by, the site of the Aotea Square today (long story, I might go into it one day).

Onward to Queen Street, and a building (well, what's left of it) that I've had my eye on to photograph and blog about for a fair while.

I suppose it's fortunate, this Queen's Head Hotel. It could have ended up entirely as rubble, as with many of the lower Greys Avenue buildings from the 1960s. In the 1980s, a developer came along, and decided to keep the façade. A reminder to us all of what used to be there. This is what is there today:

That said, I do like the remains. (I would have liked to have seen a Victorian-style pub there still instead of another glass tower, but ...) Auckland City Council gave the façade a C2 protection rating in 1986. That's a low rating, and no longer applicable (there's only A and B scheduling now); it doesn't appear to be included on the list anymore.

Some of the elegance continues on. Bacchus is recalled (as he should be, considering this was a pub) in the decorations.

There's even an English-style sign, the young Victoria, but beneath a very modern canopy.

The actual Queens Head Restaurant (they've abandoned the possessive apostrophe, rendering it oddly plural) is next door.

From the outside, it appears more Cobb & Co than Victorian-Edwardian eatery, despite the boast of "Food and beverages since 1890". Ah, well. As I said, at least something remains.

The "Murder House"

I'm in my mid 40s, so I remember the dental nurse's office at Avondale Primary School being called "the murder house". Thankfully, I'm too young to remember treadle-powered drills, they were electric in my day, but damned slow ...

 

That wooden seat would creak as you got in it. I still have forebodings about such seats, even though they aren't wooden anymore. The metal pick digging and pulling, the squirt with those rubber-bulb things, then the drill which seemed to go on for ever ...

Photos are from a display at the Auckland War Memorial Museum. The murder house equipment I remember looked exactly like this, except in a bright, sunlit room which was supposed to be healthy and cheerful. Yeah, right ... this is still the least-liked memory of my school years. I have the mouth full of amalgam fillings to prove it.

Signs in Parnell Village

Well done to Parnell Village,  which has not only preserved a specimen of the endangered wild Type D telphone box, but also includes lovely signs in the streetscape. Such as these.

Public telephones in the wild

Starting with my post on the telephone boxes of doom from 1924, things proceeded through to Jayne including a link to that on her blog (thanks again, Aussie):

"As we've just about lost all of our lovely old red public phone boxes *sniff* have a gander at the ones in NZ."

To which I responded over there:

"Sadly, the red phone boxes pictured are in captivity, ie. MOTAT, our transport and technology museum out at Western Springs. All we have on the streets these days are mainly those booth things, if we're lucky. Down country there might be pockets of difference tho' (more fingers crossed on that)."

Well, I found one a bit closer to home than that, yesterday.

When studying the public telephone box in the wild in Nu Zillund these days, there are usually three types -- the semi-booth thing where only your head and shoulders are sheltered from the sides (Type A), its cousin where at least your legs get a bit more shelter from the southerlies or the westerlies (depending on where the booth is) (Type B) ... 

Type Bs are changing their livery/plumage to this:

 

 

and the enclosed one (Type C) which is approaching extinction if not already there, descended directly from the classic, close-to-extinction in the wild, wooden telephone box (Type D-1). Type D-2 are Type Ds which are in captivity and have been struck dumb, their telephonic equipment removed (poor buggers).

But ... I found a Type D-1, in Parnell.

 

 

And ... the telephone's still there!

Sadly, though, this appeared to be a solitary specimen, so with no sign of any breeding pairs, this appears to be a one off. Nice plumage, though.

A plea for the St James Theatre

There's a good opinion piece in today's Herald by Bob Kerridge on the old St James Theatre, slowly decaying away in darkness, which I thought I'd bring to folks' attention.

Previous posts here are:
Goodbye, St James, goodbye.
The theatre's Facebook page.

Vedette -- a First World War postcard mystery

This came from the Avondale Sunday market as well. It was inside a shabby looking frame, but it caught my eye (as things can tend to do).

It is a postcard (says so on the back). Parts of the text at the back have been removed due to sellotape (wretched stuff), but it's something about ACTIVE SERVICE, No. 76 something-or-other Army Series, and G.P. & S. L.

"Vedette", means a mounted scout or sentinel, near as I can find out -- but is it just a description, or the artist's non-de-plume?

Not really NZ history -- but I do like the artwork. Suggestions/answers always welcome.

George Dixon and his Lion trade mark ginger beer

My favourite soft drink is ginger beer. I reckon it's a good choice as a favourite, considering ginger beer was around in colonial times, right alongside the spirits, beers and rotguts for the flourish of pubs and bush licence operations which sprouted like buttercups across an unmown paddock.

I also have a small collection of ginger beer clay bottles, to which I added another today from the Sunday Market. It had the above intriguing trade mark on it, first I'd ever seen on a local bottle of its kind. The "G D" stands for George Dixon of Wellington (1848-1883). [Update 28 February 2011: Jonathan Taylor, author of a research page on George Dixon, has corrected Dixon's birth year as 1848, not 1818 as the NZETC reference says. I've amended the date.]

Feilding Star 26 June 1883

The Cyclopedia of New Zealand termed his demise as just losing his life during a severe gale while on board the SS Taiaroa -- but contemporary reports had it that he committed suicide by jumping overboard.

"Mr George Dickson, the well-known cordial manufacturer here, committed suicide by jumping overboard from the Taiaroa. When he left Auckland it was noticed that he appeared to be very unwell. When the steamer got out to sea, after leaving the Spit at 1 a.m. yesterday, he became violently delirious, and three stewards were told off to watch him in turn. About 10.40 yesterday morning, during a heavy gale, a tremendous sea was shipped. The steward left him in order to put things straight in the saloon, which was flooded. Dixon was confined in the ladies' cabin, the stewardess watching him. Dixon took advantage of an opportunity to rush on deok and jump overboard, sinking at once. A mountainous sea was running, and it was impossible even to attempt to rescue him. He leaves a wife and several children."

Wanganui Herald, 27 June 1883

It was rumoured that his state of "ill health" was alcoholic delirium tremens.

However, these reports were refuted by a letter published in the NZ Herald a few weeks later. Dixon had apparently dreaded the passage to Auckland on the Taiaroa according to the writer, knowing he would be affected by seasickness during the voyage. When the ladies' cabin was flooded by a surge of water, Dixon was said to have panicked, dived out of the cabin, fell striking his head, rose unsteadily on the pitching deck, and toppled over into the sea. (Evening Post, 6 August 1883)

The New Zealand Accident Insurance Company, however, wouldn't have a bar of it. They declared that Dixon's death was not an accident at all but suicide (backed up by testimony from the crew), and refused to pay out on the ₤500 policy. Mrs. Dixon took them to court in October 1883. The jury, however, decided for the insurance company. (Christchurch Star 18 & 19 October 1883)

Mrs. Dixon took over the reins of the company ably and well despite the set-back, expanding the business, and even winning awards.

"At the various exhibitions that have been held from time to time, Mrs. Dixon has been very successful with her Aerated Water and Cordial exhibits, and was awarded prize medals both at the Wellington and Sydney exhibitions."

Mrs. Dixon may have wallpapered over the past in the glowing tribute to the firm as at 1900 -- but one thing is certain: she proved herself to be a true businesswoman.

An old relic on Geddes Terrace?

This may not look like much, and I've passed it by tons of times while heading along Geddes Terrace, both as a nipper in Primary School and now. Today, it appears to be just part of the boarding house facilities packed onto a narrow site between Great North Road and Avondale.

Something this past week, though, made me pause, and take another look at the tongue-and-groove exterior, the way it has obviously been altered and reused over the years. And I recalled something sent through to the Avondale-Waterview Historical Society for our files quite a few years ago ...

You see, this is the back of the old Avondale Police Station, a complex of three buildings completed in 1906, comprising constable's residence ansd office, a lock-up gaol, and stable. I'll have a look at the Council files (they only go back to 1927, but that'll do) to see just what this wee building might really have been, (1940 aerials indicate the building was there then) but -- it reminds me a lot of the blueprint for the stable, above. If so, altered  or not -- it would be Avondale's oldest surviving stable which we'd be able to date. The fact that a large garage-style door is at the end lends some support to the idea that it could have been a stable.

A bloke backing his car out of the carpark beside the building that day asked if I was looking for someone. I explained that the building reminded me considerably of the old gaol and stable buildings, and that I was just a history buff, wondering if I've come across more history. I tend to do that kind of thing -- stop dead, on a footpath, and wonder.

I'll update when I can.

Caution using "A field guide to Auckland"

A friend of mine showed me her copy purchased at a book sale recently, and I thought at the time, "Cool!". A field guide to Auckland, originally published in 1997 and redone in 2008 (the second edition is what I got my hands on -- but not on sale, dammit) is a tabbed area-by-area set of brief summaries covering the Auckland region as it says on the cover: "exploring the region's natural and historic heritage."

Because I'm in the process of piecing together stuff about Henderson's Mill, I turned to page 188, where summary no. 70 tells us about the Henderson's Mill Heritage Trail.

At which point, my heart sank.

The author of the summary there makes the following points:

Reference to the "Dundee Sawmills" established by Thomas Henderson and John Macfarlane in 1849.

This isn't too bad. Some in-depth research would have pointed out to the author that the first sawmill there was more likely older that 1849, and that it wasn't called "Dundee Sawmill" until after 1855, when "Long" John McLeod and Cyrus Haskell leased and rebuilt the mill, even though yes, Thomas Henderson came from Dundee in Scotland. The date 1849 is one picked out of the box of possibilities by most commentators on the subject of Henderson's history, even myself up until recently. My current theory is that when researchers saw that John Macfarlane's will was dated 1849, that must have been when the mill was built because then there was something worth writing a will about. Perhaps -- but on examining John Macfarlane's probated will in the land records fromm 1860, it covered all the real estate owned by the partnership, including properties in the city, and even more likely the shipping fleet later dubbed the Circular Saw Line.

"Immediately above the dam site is the original mill manager's house restored in 1994 ..."

More contention, here. If you ask the West Auckland Historical Society about Mill Cottage (which is what the summary refers to), they will tell you it was the mill's cookhouse, not a "mill manager's house".  Considering the building was relocated from slightly further back on the site (something not mentioned in the summary) and altered considerably over the years since the 1860s, the liklihood that it was originally a residential house instead of a utility building is in doubt.

"...Falls Park, the site of the relocated Falls Hotel (1856), constructed using kauri from the mill."

Here's the real howler. The Falls Hotel was completed in 1873, not 1856. As the sawmill ceased being a timber mill from around 1868 (it became a flax mill) and was abandoned altogether by about 1873-1875, it is extremely unlikely that the kauri in the building was cut in Henderson. Ben Copedo, West Auckland historian, thoroughly researched and published his findings on the story of the Falls Hotel in 1999. This was two years after the first edition of the field guide -- but nine years before the second edition. Copedo's findings are backed up by contemporary newspaper sources. Whereas the origin of Mill Cottage may be down to opinion, that of the Falls Hotel is not. The statement in the Field Guide is wrong.

I took a look at page 190, summary no. 72, to see what that said about the Pollen Island Marine Reserve. The piece steers clear of most of the history of the area before 1996 when the Motu Manawa Reserve was established, but one sentence about the shellbank which is Pollen Island: stands out: "These vast depositsd of cockle shells were used for park pathways by ACC from the 1920s. For this a small tramway was built out to the north end of Pollen Island." Interesting statement, because it completely misses that fact of why Pollen Island is so-named (after Daniel Pollen, who set up a brick and pottery yard on Rosebank close by from the late 1850s, and would have used the shellbank for lime for the works), and that up until 1927 Avondale was an independent borough, and from the period just before World War I until amalgamation owned the shellbank, using the shell there for lime and footpaths. Still, it is just a summary, I suppose ...

Page 203, summary No. 81 on Judges Bay ...
Referring to the Dove Meyer Robinson Park: "The park contains many fine trees including an impressive pohutukawa planted by Robert Gillies c.1855 ..."
The only Robert Gillies I know of even remotely connected with the history of the park's site was a Dunedin surveyor (his son was Harold Delf Gillies) married to Emily Street whose parents purchased part of the site in 1878 (NZ Herald, 9 September 1878, p. 2). Emily herself joined her parents  on an adjoining site after Robert's death in 1886. Who on earth is the author in the field guide talking about?

Ewen Cameron is described on the back of the book as curator of botany for Auckland Museum, and Bruce Hayward is a research geologist and marine eciologist. The historian of the team is Graeme Murdoch, best known for his work with the Auckland Regional Council and Te Kawerau o Maki. I've heard Murdoch speak, and he offered the best translation I've heard of the little-known Maori name for Traherne Island, Te Kou (the fish hook), but -- based on what I've read from just these two pages, the rest of the book's historical information is cast into doubt for me. I'd rate the book as a tertiary source at best, for starters, in terms of the historic content. The summaries, although unsourced in the main, appear to rely heavily on other works (which, as happens a lot with Auckland history, simply follow on and repeat from earlier works without additional primary research). The NZ Archaeology Association have included it on their list of teacher resources as a "secondary source" which is a bit of a concern, as the information in the book, including the errors, could be repeated in classrooms without checking for accuracy.

It's even featured in a list published by the Sydney Morning Herald as "An excellent guide, virtually indispensable for anyone who wants to explore Auckland's natural and historic treasures."

It is a guide, yes. Excellent -- no, it isn't.

Overdue Book Carried Greetings From Santa

Such was the headline of an article from 1 February 1957 in the Auckland Star which caught my eye today in the Auckland City Library.

Iris Smith wrote a book called The Santa Claus Book in 1948, in which a story from Admiral Richard Byrd was included, written for his own children one Christmas when he was at the South Pole. The Auckland Library had a copy in their children's collection -- and in 1955, it was borrowed. The borrower, learning that the Admiral was off soon back to the Pole, posted the library book to him, asking for him to take it with him to Antarctica in order for him to autograph it on Christmas Day.

The book was posted back to the Auckland Library, and arrived on 31 January 1957. In it, as arranged, Admiral Byrd signed the book, and wrote:

"I have been up to see Santa Claus and was asked by him to send his greetings to all the children of the world. And a Merry Christmas to all, from Richard E. Byrd."

Along with him, his son Richard, one of the children for whom the story had been originally written, now accompanying his father and joining him in inscribing in the book:

"In anticipation of World Children's Day, greetings to children of New Zealand from the bottom of the world. I have the good fortune to be sailing with my Dad on this 7th Polar venture, Operation Deepfreeze. I am sending these greetings on behalf of my Dad's four grandsons -- my youngsters -- the oldest of whom seems to be a born explorer and wants to come down next year on Operation Deepfreeze. Their names are Dickie, Ames, Levi and Harry."

The message was written on Christmas Day, 1955. Three others in the party added their signatures.

And all this was what met the eyes of children's librarian Miss Joan Lawrence when she opened the parcel.

A little more than a month after the book was returned to the library, Admiral Byrd died in his sleep, 11 March 1957.

The library at the time bought another copy for lending purposes, so that the special book could be kept for display. David Verran at the research centre today found the book on the digital catalogue, lodged with the Sir George Grey Special Collections. I haven't seen the book yet, but -- hopefully, I'll bring back an update soon, to let you know if that is the same well-travelled version of the book signed by explorers so very far away.

I also don't know if the unnamed borrower was given a massive fine or not ...

St Matthews-in-the-City and their billboard

The folk at St Matthews-in-the-City who brought you the "measuring fish" billboard earlier this year are now in strife over this sign:

There are newspaper articles about it. The church has already had to replace the sign once, after it was defaced with brown paint yesterday within hours of it being put up.

These are some shots of the interior of St-Matthews-in-the-City -- a true gem of Auckland, both in terms of its parochial history and the beautiful architecture.

 

 

 

 

To any of my readers -- if you, like me, think that the billboard is not offensive but just thought-provoking (and, I reckon, quite clever), send an email to the church. Give them a bit of support this Christmas (I already have done). I support their right to freedom of expression and freedom from vandalism.

Update, 19 December: The parish have had to give up, after an elderly woman slashed at the second billboard with a knife. Vandalism wins, sadly.