Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Wellington – first ruled by a Committee?

The Muttonbirds’ ‘I wish I was in Wellington’ was first thing on the radio when I tuned in on Wellington Anniversary day.

BUT - 'You can't beat Wellington on a good day.'
I wish I was in Wellington, the weather's not so good.
The wind it cuts right through you ...
Yes, it does, or did that morning anyway. Fortunately, for me, I was back in Wellington. I hadn’t needed my grey fleecy jacket for the previous three weeks up north (Auckland and Northland), but I did need it back home. Though to be fair, the weather was ‘not so good’ for most of the country.

I wish I was in Wellington - the bureaucracy ...
Ummm – yes. And Aucklanders might take some delight in learning that Wellington was ruled by a Committee before the township even got started, though it hardly had time to get its boots on.

Delving into The Making of Wellington 1800-19141 for Anniversary Day, I was interested to discover that the first European institution to become established for Wellington was indeed a ‘Committee’.2 It was set-up in Britain in September 1939 by the New Zealand Company to maintain law and order among new arrivals the company was sending here. Membership was drawn from the (male) emigrants on the first three ships about to depart for New Zealand. The Committee and accompanying Constitution were according to Beaglehole ‘greeted with enthusiasm and cheers and unanimously endorsed by the men on all three vessels’.

The Committee (soon renamed a Council) was shortlived. It was deemed illegal by the British government and superseded by the impact of the Treaty of Waitangi in February 1840. When Governor William Hobson heard of the Wellington Committee-cum-Council on 21 May, he immediately proclaimed sovereignty over all of New Zealand and dispatched his Colonial Secretary Willoughby Shortland (with soldiers) to disband the Council – which he did on 4 June. It led to lingering resentment with the northern-based administration.

The problem is the gap - between us on the map
And there's no easy way to reconcile it

It seems most of those early Councillors didn’t have the same desire for Wellington as the Muttonbirds. Of the 15 appointed, nine left Wellington within the first decade, seven ultimately left the country, and only three remained in the city until their death. But for me:

I'd be there tomorrow, if I only could.


1 David Hamer & Roberta Nicholls (eds), Victoria University Press, 1990.

2 Diana Beaglehole, ‘Political Leadership in Wellington: 1839-1853’.

Friday, January 17, 2014

I am not alone ...

It has been some time since I wrote on this blog, but a chance encounter this week with quotes about New Zealand has spurred me to continue sharing my thoughts on ‘being a New Zealander’.

Foyer wall in the Vero Centre.
The quotes were emblazoned across a huge foyer wall in the Vero Centre at 48 Shortland Street, Auckland. All reflections on living, being or deriving from New Zealand. Most came from those who were born here, a few from visitors or new arrivals (eg Governor Hobson). Though I had heard many of them in some way over the years, there were a few unfamiliar ones.

They ranged from the short and informative (‘High Winds’ – AA sign), to the humourous (‘We don’t know how lucky we are’ – John Clarke (aka Fred Dagg)), to the profound (‘Each of us has a piece of New Zealand we regard as ours’ – C K Stead).

I found it amusingly ironic that, when I tried to take photos for my own use and reference, it was the soft American accent of a black security guard that informed me – in the most polite and gentle way – that I would need to get permission from the building’s owners.

No matter. I copied down some of the quotes I identified with most strongly, and took note of the building owners to contact later for a copy of the full complement – if required.

There were two that resonated more deeply. One was from a foreigner, George Bernard Shaw: If I showed my true feelings, I would cry: it’s the best country I have been in.

The other was from a New Zealander who ironically spent her adult life – and died her tragic death – overseas. Yet, Katherine Mansfield wrote:
I thank God I was born in New Zealand
A young country is a real heritage
Though it takes one time to recognise it.
But New Zealand is in my very bones.

Each one of those lines echoed within me. I don’t know if the irony in the second line was deliberate, but even if our heritage on the land (in the Pākehā line at least) is relatively short, it is still a heritage and something to be treasured.

Just a few days earlier, I had deepened my knowledge of the Jean Batten trail in our history at the Museum of Transport and Technology (MOTAT) in Auckland. She is one of those famous names that everyone knows, but may not realise the significance of her achievements – and be in total ignorance about other aspects of her life. She too was born in New Zealand, spent most of her adult life elsewhere, and died tragically – in Majorca in 1982, alone and unrecognised by anyone around her.

No doubt it was because New Zealand was in her ‘very bones’ that drove her to go beyond simply breaking the England-Australia flying time in 1936 to become the first to fly direct England to New Zealand single-handedly. She had scant specialist equipment, but an uncanny ability to navigate – including 2000 kilometres across the Tasman Sea to within 100 metres of her target landfall destination in New Zealand.

Her worldwide fame was primarily concentrated into 1934-36, after which she largely receded from public view. Her fuller story is both sad and inspiring, a combination of brilliance and tragedy. It is perhaps appropriate then that ‘Jean Batten Place’ in Auckland is so short – perhaps a hundred metres if that. But it could do with a plaque explaining who she was, and what she achieved – or a sculpture of the little Percival Gull that brought her safely across the Tasman – and back to Britain again.

Perhaps that time will come.