Friday, 30 January 2026

A to Z of Tauranga Museum: B is for Bathing Suits

 

Image courtesy of Tauranga Museum, Robert Gale Collection, 0005/20/539

As the Bay of Plenty summer continues to be hot and locals and visitors alike flock to the coast, it’s hard to miss how deeply beach culture is woven into our identity. From sun-soaked days on Mount Maunganui beaches to the salty breeze off Te Awanui, these experiences have shaped our city’s character for generations. The Tauranga Museum holds a treasure trove of artifacts that tell this story.


Gifted by Tauranga Historical Society, Tauranga Museum, 0230/11

Its collection captures the essence of seaside leisure: beach umbrellas for shade, surf boards for thrill-seekers, picnic baskets for family outings, and even a bottle of Q-tol – the once-popular lotion that soothed sunburn long before we understood the importance of sunscreen.

                                1930s swimsuit, made in England.               Early 1980s Expozay, made in Tauranga.
                                       Tauranga Museum, 0151/16                           Tauranga Museum, 0032/14

But the real stars of the collection might be the bathing suits. With 83 suits spanning more than a century, this collection charts the evolution of beachwear - from modest woollen costumes to sleek Lycra designs. Many of the suits reflect not only innovation in materials and design but also changing attitudes toward fashion and freedom of expression.

For example, the museum holds two Jantzen swimsuits that were manufactured in Wellington by A.J. Coleman Ltd under licence from the American brand.  They were the height of style in their respective decades. During the 1930s and 40s, new fabrics emerged, sleeves vanished, and bold colours became the norm – as seen in a striking bright blue swimsuit:

1930s-1940s Jantzen swimsuit. Tauranga Museum, 0019/00

 Moving forward to the 1970s, and designers were embracing Lycra, a revolutionary fabric that allowed for greater flexibility and comfort. This floral swimsuit illustrates the shift toward vibrant patterns and figure-hugging styles that defined the decade:

1970s Jantzen swimsuit. Tauranga Museum, 0266/11


Friday, 23 January 2026

When I first heard of Papamoa

 Papamoa farmland - typical flat land that the Baylys farmed in the 1920s.
Te Ao Mārama - Tauranga City Libraries Photo gca-20628

I can remember my parents talking about Elsie Walker when I was a child.  In fact, it might even have been part of a ‘stranger danger’ conversation with them.  The year before I was born, my father had heard on the radio that Bill Bayly had been hanged.  What does this have to do with Papamoa, my current home, you may well ask?

Elsie Walker, Auckland Weekly News, 28 February 1929, p.50 
Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections AWNS-19290228-50-05

Elsie, an Opotiki girl, lived with her aunt and uncle, the Baylys, on their farm in Papamoa in 1928 when she disappeared.  Coincidentally, so did their car.  Some days later, her body was found in Auckland at Panmure, and the car was discovered with an empty petrol tank at Papatoetoe. Elsie did not drive.  The sandshoes she was wearing were worn out as though she had walked the seven miles from Papatoetoe to Panmure. The police and coroner could not establish her cause of death, with opinions varying from exposure to accidental. A witness claimed to have seen the car being driven to Auckland by a man with a woman sitting in the back seat, already dead, but the accuracy of this information was not conclusive. Some suspicion arose about Bill Bayly, Elsie's cousin, but he claimed to have been in Auckland all along, and the police believed him.

Mr F K Hunt, a Stipendiary Magistrate, spoke at the inquest stating that the public were entitled to a better service from the Police than they received in that case.  He referred to mistakes and described the enquiries as inefficient. No person ever faced trial for the murder of Elsie Walker.

William Alfred (Bill) Bayly, NZ Truth, Issue 1246, 17 October 1929, Page 7
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZTR19291017.2.33.1.2

Five years later William Alfred Bayly, a married man with two children by then, was farming at Ruawaro near Huntly.  Bill Bayly lived on an adjacent farm to Christobel and Samuel Lakey. Other neighbours noticed one day in October 1934 that the Lakey’s cows had not been milked that morning and set about doing so. The Lakey’s 110-acre farm carried 51 dairy cows. The neighbours were concerned to find no sign of the Lakeys in their house and it was not long before they found the body of Christobel Lakey dead with her face in the duckpond.  As soon as this news spread around the district people assumed Samuel Lakey had murdered his wife.  

The search for Samuel Lakey, Auckland Weekly News, 8 November 1933, p.46 
Auckland Libraries Heritage Collections AWNS-19331108-46-02

Police searched for his body, with the help of local people, expecting that it might be a murder/suicide.  Lakey’s shotgun was found in a creek on Bill Bayly’s farm and blood was found on items at his place.  The two farmers had fallen out and argued over a fencing issue when Bayly’s bull got into the paddock with Lakey’s cows, and they did not get on generally.  Mrs Lakey has said she believed he had killed Elsie Walker and could well kill them. Police used chemical tests that revealed that there were charred bone fragments on his shovel, for he had tried to burn Samuel Lakey’s body in a drum.  On 10 January 1934, Bayly was charged with Samuel Lakey's murder and he hanged for it in the following July. Gossip spread around the country and the version that I heard a decade later was that he fed the body to his pigs.  The guilty verdict reinforced the suspicion that he had murdered his cousin in Papamoa.

Burial of Samuel Lakey with his wife
Photo: KELLY HODEL / Waikato Times by kind permission

Friday, 16 January 2026

Classic Refreshments of a Kiwi Summer

 

Mrs J. T. Trotter left and Mrs S. A. Sefton with three-year old Steven Trotter enjoy fish and chips on the Strand reclamation. Published Bay of Plenty Times 23 March 1971.
Te Ao Mārama - Tauranga City Libraries Photo gcc-16664

Who among us has not enjoyed a sunny seaside snack of fish and chips, coupled with a fizzy drink and maybe followed by an ice cream?  How long have Tauranga residents been able to do so?  It took quite a while for the components of this classic meal to come together.

Exactly 152 years and two days ago, at a race day at the Tauranga racecourse on 14 January, 1874, hot and thirsty spectators were offered a fizzy drink – the long-standing classic and ubiquitous ginger beer. Messrs Grant & Co superintended the refreshments tent [1[ and a Mr. Clarke handed out the non-alcoholic beverage, probably in sturdy, re-usable bottles that looked like this:

Tauranga Museum, 3189/85
Image courtesy of Tauranga Museum

Ginger beer was enormously popular, not only for the slightly daring implication that it might be intoxicating, but also because it was cheap and easy to make in a bottling plant or at home.  (Ginger was also a well-loved spice and thought to aid digestion.)  Prizes were awarded for the best home-made ginger beer at A & P Shows[2] and by 1923 T.H. Hall was offering it in a commercial quantity[3]:

The other elements of our now-traditional meal trio were less easily adaptable to open-air enjoyment.  The first reference I can find to an offering of fish and chips is in the Bay of Plenty Times of 16 April 1909 [4], where Mr W. H. Beets, one of the firm of Beets Bros. that flourished briefly in Tauranga during the early years of the century, offers a terse invitation:


This is, unfortunately, some months after the same paper had advertised the Beets Bros clearing sale, so maybe it is a last gesture to mark the end of their endeavours from their premises on the Strand? 

I have been unable to trace the location of either the Beets’ “depot” or the “Strand supper room” as such – it may have been a venue so convenient and well-frequented that everyone knew where Mr Beets’ hospitality would be on offer. Supper rooms were to be found as part of larger buildings all over Tauranga, so this one was very likely to be part of another establishment, possibly the Commercial Hotel.  In this, approximately 1908, photo, where the two-storey hotel is the backdrop, fish can be seen hanging on its verandah:

Tauranga Museum 0333/21
Image courtesy of Tauranga Museum

One thing is quite clear, however – in early Tauranga, fish and chips were not eaten out of paper on your lap[5], but were served on plates set on tables.  The clearest evidence of this is provided in 1911[6]:

So – mass public consumption of fish and chips occurred much later than ginger beer.  And, still later, came ice cream.


Column header, Bay of Plenty Times, Volume XXII, 9 December 1896, Page 3[7]

People knew about ice cream, of course.  But suspicions of the mass-produced stuff were rampant.  The 1909 – 1910 issues of the BP Times carry several stories of high microbe counts, the presence of arsenic, and even ptomaine poisoning.  So the cream had to be reliably sourced (Beets Bros had advertised a milk ordering service during their time here); and, although pasteurisation was well understood as a preservation process, it was complex to accomplish.

The 1896 feature article, underneath  “The Dairy” headline, highlights the way in which an apparently American manufacturer achieves production in sufficient quantity to supply the ice cream parlour in his city for the summer months.  The correspondent, J. Moldenhower, states: “Thus treated you can ship your cream with absolute safety in jacketed [i.e., insulated] cans any reasonable distance.  If the cream on arrival at its destination is cooled again to below 50 degrees, it will keep sweet for 24 hours at least even without freezing.  The pasteurised cream not only keeps from souring, but it keeps its flavour perfectly fresh for several days.”

Well, maybe.  For some time ice cream was to remain a delicacy made in private homes, involving much labour.  


Ice cream maker, Tauranga Museum 2115/85
Image courtesy of Tauranga Museum

By 20 January 1913, however – one week less than 113 years ago – we are back at the Tauranga races, where, in the “capable hands of Mrs F. H. Hammond”, a midday dinner was provided, followed by “afternoon tea, ice cream, and cream and fruit, from 2 p.m. till 6 p. m.”[8]

It could be said that Mrs Hammond broke the ice.  In October of that year, an ice cream stall was up and running at a Methodist Church sale of work[9]; and at last, in 1914, ice cream was to be had from a shop on the Strand[10],  Whitehead’s Tea Rooms.  Did Whitehead’s customers get to wander along a sunny street licking a cone?  Almost certainly not.  A thick conical sundae glass kept the confection colder for longer (anyone who has eaten ice cream made from real cream knows how quickly it drips and puddles).

A century ago our 1970's family eating with their fingers al fresco on the Strand may have chosen Whitehead’s for their classic summer meal.  And they might have found it as delicious as the fizz, fish, chips, and ice cream of today.

Ice cream sundae glass, Tauranga Museum 0209/85
Image courtesy of Tauranga Museum



[1] https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/BOPT18740114.2.8
[2] See, for instance, results listed in the Bay of Plenty Times of 24 March 1916, 16 March 1917, and 15 March 1918
[3] https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/BOPT19230111.2.2.6
[4] https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/BOPT19090416.2.7
[5] An early example of such informality, however, is the account of the Peace Celebration in 1919, when, along with ginger beer, participating children (in large numbers) were given paper bags containing a lunch (likely to be a sandwich, a cake and some fruit).  Having eaten its contents, they felt free to blow up and pop! the bag.








 


 


Tuesday, 6 January 2026

The Centennial Film in Tauranga, 1938-39

From Tauranga City Library’s archives

A monthly blog about interesting items in our collection

In 1938 the Government Film Studios, part of the Tourist and Publicity Department, started filming for a production to celebrate New Zealand’s centennial year in 1940. A short sequence of settlers landing from the ship that carried them from England was shot on location on Ocean Beach. The lower slopes of Mauao are visible in the background, but are not identified.
There are several reports in the Bay of Plenty Times on the filming of what it called the New Zealand Centenary Film. A front page article on Friday 4 November 1938 describes the arrangements being made ahead of the arrival of the production unit and two lead performers. They included collecting ‘properties’ to represent the arrivals’ belongings, and recruiting extras for the scenes on the beach.
The St John Ambulance Association proposed holding a fundraising ball where the attendees would attend in period costume, the best of which “will be given the opportunity of appearing in the film”.
The ball was held in the Town Hall on 28 November, with the costumes worn described enthusiastically in the Times the following day. Some of those selected as extras are listed, including a Miss Doreen Mander. Pae Korokī contains scans of two copies of a photo of a Miss Dorothy Mander in costume – presumably the same person.

Picture of Dorothy Mander in costume for filming on Ocean Beach, Mount Maunganui

Dorothy Mander in costume for filming on Ocean Beach, Mount Maunganui
(Te Ao Mārama - Tauranga City Libraries Photo 01-343)

 Planned weekend rehearsals went ahead over the weekend of 2 and 4 December 1938, despite bad weather. There is a gap in reporting until 16 December when the director, Mr. Bridgman, and leading lady of the film, Miss Una Weller (accompanied by her mother), judged the costumes at a fancy dress ball for school children held at the Peter Pan Hall in Pacific Avenue. On 20 January 1939 there was a notice calling for extras for some filming at Whareroa.
Pae Korokī has scans of five other photographs taken during the filming on Ocean Beach. Three were provided for scanning by Ray Armstrong, one by Marion Proud, and we have a print from an unknown donor in our Climate Controlled Room.

Picture of Filming on Ocean Beach, Mount Maunganui 1938-1939

Filming on Ocean Beach, Mount Maunganui 1938-1939

(Te Ao Mārama - Tauranga City Libraries Photo 01-155)

Picture of sets and extras on Ocean Beach, Mount Maunganui, 1938-1939

Sets and extras on Ocean Beach, Mount Maunganui 1938-1939

Te Ao Mārama - Tauranga City Libraries Photo 01-156

These two photos were provided by Te Ao Mārama's then New Zealand Room team for a Bay of Plenty Times feature called “Back in time”, one in 2001 and another in 2006. Several people responded with more information - "Mr W. D. Moxham of Alexandra [writes that].... as a child he was an 'extra' in the film, qualifying for this privilege not because of his acting prowess but because he was top in arithmetic that day at Mount Maunganui Primary School" (Bay of Plenty Times, 18 August 2001).

This information enabled the dates of the filming to be narrowed down. However, no informant could remember the title the film was eventually released under – “One Hundred Crowded Years”. The articles found in Papers Past for 1938 helped make the connection. This led to the discovery of more detail about the production from a chapter in a 2004 book edited by William Renwick (listed in the Sources and available online). This doesn't mention who played the Māori seen on screen, opening a hāngī to feed the new arrivals, guiding the settlers into the bush, and later attacking a redoubt.

A lack of resources and the outbreak of World War 2 in September 1939 dramatically slowed the completion of the film. It wasn’t released until the very end of the Centennial Year, when “the government gave it to the National Patriotic Fund Board, which made it available to provincial patriotic committees to screen as a fundraiser” (Renwick, p. 269). It toured the country for the next 18 months, raising £1,200.

The fifty-minute film can now be watched on Archives New Zealand’s YouTube channel, with the landing sequence starting at 12 minutes 35 seconds, followed by the pioneers’ journey inland to start breaking in the countryside for farming (filmed around Ōropi at the same time).

 

 

As you might expect of a celebratory film of the period it skims quickly over the complexities of the Treaty of Waitangi, land ownership and later instances of warfare between Māori and Pākehā. This may be particularly so since the film’s ending included footage of New Zealand soldiers boarding a ship back to the Old World, to fight in a war with no certain outcome.

Picture of children exploring part of the set built on Ocean Beach, Mount Maunganui 1938-1939

Exploring part of the set built on Ocean Beach, Mount Maunganui 1938-1939

Te Ao Mārama - Tauranga City Libraries Photo 01-269

In early December 1938 the film’s director wrote to the Mount Maunganui Town Board for permission to build “temporary huts, etc., on the ocean front necessary in the taking of the Centenary film”. This was granted, but it looks like the budget didn’t stretch to anything too elaborate.

Sources:

Bay of Plenty Times, Volume LXVII:

Issue 12497, 4 November 1938, Page 1

Issue 12517, 29 November 1938, Page 1

Issue 12521, 3 December 1938, Page 4

Issue 12521, 3 December 1938, Page 5

Issue 12522, 5 December 1938, Page 1

Issue 12531, 16 December 1938, Page 4

Issue 12258, 20 January 1939, Page 4

 Renwick, William. One Hundred Crowded Years: The Centennial Film. Chapter 19 of Creating a National Spirit: Celebrating New Zealand's Centennial. Wellington : Victoria University Press, 2004. Pages 260-270.

“The Tin Shed” : the origins of the National Film Unit. Wellington : New Zealand Film Archive, 1981.

Early documentary film in New Zealand - last paragraph. Retrieved 20 December 2025

One Hundred Crowded Years. Wikipedia. Retrieved 18 December 2025. 


Written by Leslie Goodliffe, Information Access Specialist at Te Ao Mārama - Tauranga City Libraries

Friday, 19 December 2025

2025 - A Good Year for Local Histories

 

A few of this year’s local histories

Two hundred or so contemporary tales of past and present, a selection of Tommy ‘Kapai’ Wilson’s newspaper columns written for the Bay of Plenty Times since 2004, and put into a handsome volume entitled Paperboy Writer, starts this review of the efforts of local writers to evoke the history of Tauranga Moana and its surrounds.  Paperboy Writer was published in November 2024, but this review stretches a couple of points, in time and space, in order to make a larger one:  the astonishing variety of history books concerning the Bay of Plenty – east and west - that came out in 2025.  All of those described here are in the Tauranga Library: ask at the Reference Room if you can’t find a borrowing copy.

‘Variety’, in this discussion, takes a number of forms.  There is not only a breadth of approach and tone, ranging from Tommy Wilson’s (mostly) cheerful nostalgia to the balanced formality of Trevor Bentley’s prose in Te Kaewa, The Wanderers [1] and the almost lyrical intertwining of te reo and English in Tame Iti’s compelling autobiography.  We are also offered some very fresh approaches to the way history can be written – Sarah Ell’s excursions into imagined thoughts of The Elms’ inhabitants, for instance; or the very practical, informative, and carefully ordered and illustrated lists that form the backbone of Hatu Hone – 120 years of St John’s in Tauranga.

There are hidden gems to be found as well.  Robert Craig Scott’s prodigious efforts to track and trace the changes in neighbourhoods that have now become Tauranga’s suburbs are hugely useful to those researching past lives in close and often unexpected detail.  Bob published the second edition of Mount Maunganui, A History of the Land and Early Settlers from 1864 in November of this year.  As if this was not enough, he also managed to produce the ninth volume of his series: Otumoetai, A History following confiscation in 1864.  Although my editorial eye regrets the lack of macrons in the text, I was well impressed that Bob had found a first-person account, an article from the Bay of Plenty Times of 8 June 1882 and quoted in full on p. 138, that illustrated the poignancies of settlement in transition:

… most of the other trees were planted by the natives.  Mr Matheson has erected a dairy under the willow trees.  On the side of the house is a very old titoki tree.  The natives left this Pa at the outbreak of the late Maori war and burnt all their whares before leaving.  Since then, the old Catholic Church has been left to go to ruin.

 The titoki tree can be identified in the photos Bob provides and – as visitors to the Otūmoetai Historic Reserve can see for themselves – still stands [2].  Bob has done for his beloved suburbs what I would love to see done for Te Puna: setting out the land use changes at a level of detail that makes present recognition easy and delightful.

Communities are another theme that gets varied treatment from our 2025 authors.  Raewyn Otto, née Phare, has significantly revised and augmented the photocopied booklet she produced to mark the 75th anniversary of the establishment of her faith community.  Celebrating 100 years: The Seventh-day Adventist Church in Tauranga 1925-2025 is now a large-format hardcover volume, lavishly illustrated in full colour, assembling personal testimony, autobiographical accounts of the church’s families – the Ashtons, the Goldstones, the Maunders and more – their poetry, a short story, their performances of The Road to Bethlehem; and enough institutional history to help us understand how a modern-day church establishes itself in a society where the faith traditions that came with nineteenth-century settlers were already well in place.

Kathy Wills’ Tales of Old Katikati, third edition, is another reworking, based on original author Elsie G Lockington’s reminiscences and stories of people she clearly knew very well.  Its sixty pages have a conversational quality, often loaded with personal and place names; it is occasionally vague as to detail, although Elsie makes it clear what the impacts of dreadful events, such as the influenza epidemic of 1915, can be on a tight-knit town and country society.  The tone is invariably polite.  It is, however, worth reading to the very end where, at a safe distance, the third-generation editor lets us know that even Elsie had personal opinions.

Someone looking for a more comprehensive – I would go so far as to say definitive – history of Katikati will find it in Katikati, From First Peoples to the Present Day/Ngā Reanga Tangata ki Katikati, co-authored by Francis Young, Sandra Haigh, Pauline McCowan and Chris Bedford and produced in time for the 150th anniversary of the arrival of the Ulster settlers in September 2025.  That well-worked aspect of Katikati’s history is, however, deliberately downplayed in favour of settlement patterns since 1300 CE and Katikati’s development since 1940.  “We had to make choices,” the authors say in their preface, “to keep the book manageable; not everyone may agree with those.”  This solid and readable book has the same self-confidence that is shown in the small rural settlement it describes.

One significant element stands out in reviewing the books mentioned in this article: the choice and quality of the images used.  Francis Young had a busy year.  He and Di Logan put together an astonishing book, Pictures from the Ulster Plantation: Katikati 1898-1900, of the very lovely photographs of Emily Surtees.  Her album records the homes and people of the Ulster families that George Vesey Stewart somehow persuaded and energetically led to live on the other side of the world. These evocative images have been carefully selected, even more carefully digitally enhanced, and are laid out in such a way that each monochrome page is beautiful in itself.

Quite another, just as compelling, approach is taken by Sally Pratt with her publication, Tauranga: Just scratching the surface.  As every successful publisher knows, you can judge a book by its cover: Sally’s lively account of interesting and exciting episodes of our town’s past is accessible, impressively researched, packed with Tauranga’s more unusual stories and a quantity of spectacular illustrations, almost all of them colourised using AI and up-to-the-minute digital publishing technology.  This is the perfect way to interest a younger reader – a highly pictorial presentation showing the layers of history in our place, with enough text to explain how streets and shorelines change, and who was involved in changing them.


No review of the histories published this year would be complete without acknowledging the two mainstream books shown above.

Sarah Ell gave a talk to Tauranga Historical earlier this year.  The Spirit of a Place celebrates the status of one of Aotearoa New Zealand’s significant heritage sites, and Sarah explained how she steered a careful course through her chapters.  She set herself to meet the demands of the expected readership of her book: serious scholars, heritage enthusiasts, and of course the tourists who flock to The Elms from the cruise ships and elsewhere, seeking something that will mark a memorable experience rather than - maybe as well as – explain the background to a distinguished building and the family that made it their home for so long.  Glossy, with sensitive photographs and even more sensitive side-stories, the book is a triumph by any standard, and the writing of a quality that shows even a well-trodden tale has fresh insights to uncover.

Tame Iti’s autobiography, Mana, is a quality publication of a very different kind. Beautifully designed, with lots of white space on its matt-paper pages, it has a congenial font that helps make the considerable amount of te reo, although not invariably translated, adequately understandable in context.  The overall tone of the book, as might be expected of its subject, is one of drama in both the narrative and the images.    It is also sober and reflective, the story of an examined life, one we are privileged to see too. 

What a vintage year 2025 has proved to be for us here in the Bay of Plenty.  Local history really does enrich our lives and the way we deal with our present day.  We must be grateful to all our local historians who take the time, and expend prodigious effort, to help us understand how things were and are now.  Tame Iti’s approach, in connection with the Waitangi Tribunal’s hearings of the Tūhoe claims, sums it up:

…we came up with a way to convey that history.  Instead of a lecture about colonization and confiscation, we would paint the picture of the experience of our tīpuna.  We reminded ourselves: Imagine being in that space.  What are we thinking? [3]

 [1] We published a description of Te Kaewa/The Wanderers on this blog on Tuesday 28 October

[2] I am indebted to Harley Couper of the Reference team at Tauranga Library for helping me to find this on the 3D Tauranga Web Viewer, https://www.tauranga.govt.nz/council/maps

[3] Tame Iti, Mana, p.201

Author and images: Beth Bowden