Friday, 26 November 2021

Recollections of Dennis George Marsh - Part 2

Second part of a series contributed by guest author Dennis Marsh
(continued from Part 1)

Dennis Marsh, 2 years old, c1941, Photograph by Rupert Connell
Image collection of Dennis Marsh

Some of my earliest recollections of our family was when we were living on an orchard on Moffat Road where Decor Greenworld is now located. Dad was away at the Second World War and stationed at Guadalcanal. Our neighbours across the road were Clarrie and Edith Kiddie and alongside the orchard towards the Kaimais were the Sheeley family.

Dennis Marsh at Bell’s Farm, Cambridge Road
Image collection of Dennis Marsh

Dad was manpowered out of the army to take up a sharemilking contract on Mrs. Kathrine McAlister Bell’s property on Cambridge Road right opposite the old family farm. We had a brand-new house to live in (it cost the Bells £600 to build) and Mum and Dad used to milk about 100 cows and send the cream in to the Tauranga Dairy Factory located on the corner of 12th Avenue and Devonport Road. Later they were founding members of the Town Milk Supply Association. The raw milk was sent for processing and redistribution to the consumers via the milkmen. During the later war years the Government subsidised farm labour with land girls and Mrs. Bell’s daughter Margaret worked for Dad. Our neighbours were Tom Ridder and family on the Judea side and Mrs Pruden on the Kaimai side. Mrs. Pruden had a daughter who lived with her but there seemed to be no Mr. Pruden.

George Marsh, Cambridge Road
Image collection of Dennis Marsh

Dad worked the farm with horses named Molly and Dell most of the time he was on the farm.  I remember when the first tractor arrived – a Farmall – and the fuss the neighbours made when they came to see it. At this time the old family farm had been taken over by Tom Fowler who had married Dad’s sister Mavis. Both the Fowlers and the Ridders had tractors but not as new as Dad’s.

Pop Marsh used to come out and help on the farm with things like haymaking and the young calves when he was needed and I remember one time when he was using the horse sweep when we were haymaking and he caught a wasp nest in the sweep. Boy, it wasn’t just the horses that were jumping around! Pop was a great stack maker. This was an art learnt over the years. How to stack loose hay and finish it off with a gable roof and how to make it rain proof by having all the hay lying in a line from top to bottom. We used to make covers out of old ‘super’(phosphate) sacks. We would split the sacks so that they were opened in to a single piece and we would hand sew with twine and sack needles all the many sacks until we had a cover big enough to cover the haystack. This went over the top of the haystack to hold the hay in place. Over the next months, until it was time to feed out, the cover would rot. By the time that had happened, the hay had settled in to place and the stacks seldom got wet. This is probably why the rats and mice were found when we opened the stacks in the winter.

Dad at Main Road Farm
Image collection of Dennis Marsh

I contracted Scarlet Fever and was hospitalised in isolation for a time. I don’t know how long, but it seemed a long time to a young child. Mum and Dad were not allowed to visit until the risk of spreading had passed. When they did visit, they used to buy me an ice cream from the dairy by the hospital. An old guy called Eddie Christmas used to bring ice creams but Mum and Dad frowned upon it– he may have been an unsavoury character but his ice creams were great!

Anything out past the hospital was considered to be in the country. Cambridge Road was metalled, not sealed. I remember going to visit Cyril Doidge and family who lived at Tauriko but on the other side of the Wairoa River. Driving up to the old mill wharf was like going for a major ride in the car. When we got there, Dad would whistle out to the Doidge family and one of them would row across the river in the boat and take us all over to visit. The Kaimai Rd was also just all metal.

(to be continued)

Friday, 19 November 2021

After demobilisation: Arthur Weber Todman, b. 8 October 1888

This close to Armistice Day, we might pay some attention to the “what happened next?” question for those who served in the Great War.  

Life in Te Puna turned out to be not so easy for returned soldier Arthur  Weber Todman.  Just 30 years old when the war ended, he took up land on the Wairoa after his discharge from the army and tried to make a go of marriage, and a small farm, there.  Both failed.  The muddles and difficulties in getting land at a fair valuation, and a loan to support it, were the subject of comment in the Bay of Plenty Times as early as September 1918. [1]

The perceived unfairnesses of life as a returned serviceman may have been particularly sharp-drawn for Arthur, who has elsewhere been described as a “headstrong union leader.” [2] Certainly he was not afraid of trouble.  The skills he developed as an organiser of working men showed in both his military and civilian lives.

As a young man, before the war, he trained as a chef and was appointed assistant secretary of the Hotel and Restaurant Workers’ Union in January 1916.  By March of that year he was elected to the Committee of the Trades and Labour Council.  This promising function as a union official did not last long in the face of recruiting efforts that really got under way at this time.  Possibly to spend time with his family in Wanganui before call-up, he resigned his office as assistant secretary in May.  By July he had a job as chef with Fosters Hotel, the address given on his army History Sheet when he was eventually enlisted into the Canterbury Regiment in August.

By January 1917 the Regiment was in the Étaples Camp, now notorious for the mutiny of colonial troops that broke out in September.  Once again Arthur’s union training came into play.  He was a member of the small council of action whose threats and action [3] made it possible to negotiate an end to the mutiny and important reforms to military discipline. 

Arthur was probably lucky to be wounded in December 1917.  He was hospitalised, and sent home in October 1918. His 3 January 1919 discharge arrangements [4] show an amendment to his intended address: c/o GPO [General Post Office] Wairoa, Tauranga, Bay of Plenty. 

The shipping list for the Ngapuhi in December 1918 [5] shows that he had been in Tauranga, presumably viewing, and choosing, the land he was to settle on.  A man of property now, he married Gladys Victoria Shears in 1920.

He also joined the Tauranga Returned Servicemen’s Association, moving procedural motions [6] and opposing the racism of soldier settlement policies intended to offer land only to pakeha [7], as a union man knew how to do.  As a landowner, however, he was vigilant as to his rights, publishing many, many public notices against those trespassing on his farm. 

We know what kind of farm it was, and what Arthur did with it, because in February 1924 a clearing-out sale [8] took place.  The sale, the result of a declaration of bankruptcy at the end of January, and a creditors meeting on 5 February, showed he ran dairy cattle and poultry, and had lived with Gladys in a four-roomed cottage.

Arthur’s loan from the Lands Department had been called in.  Gladys, who had taken several trips to Auckland in 1922-23, was aboard the SS Matangi three days before the creditors meeting.  It seems they did not live together again.

I surmise this because, although Arthur was able, within three months, to clear his debts [9], he shows up as one of a group of striking coastal seamen in September 1925. [10]  He was one of the six ‘ship’s boys’ who were convicted, forfeited six days’ pay, and returned to the Port Dunedin (the vessel, not the place).

Arthur eventually re-settled in Wanganui.  In his old age he was living at 49 Dublin Street, which still stands.

Arthur died in 1983. He is listed among the servicemen on the Auckland War Memorial Museum’s ‘online cenotaph’:

There were no poppies against his name when I searched for it, but one is there now.  If you think his short stint in Te Puna made him someone to be remembered by us locals, you can leave a poppy there too.

[2]  John Fairley and William Allison, The Monocled Mutineer, Allen & Unwin 2015

[3] His account of the work of the Council of Action is given in The Monocled Mutineer: “We marched to the clink, which was half of the MPs [military police] quarters, let the prisoners out, doused the place with kerosene, and set it on fire.  This created a very dangerous situation as it was very near the ammunition dump.”

Friday, 12 November 2021

Shipwreck on Karewa

Portrait of the ship Taranaki, Carte de visite copy photo of painting
Collection of Alexander Turnbull Library, Ref. PA2-2797

The 327 tons SS Taranaki, owned by the Union Steamship Company and captained by James Malcolm, left Auckland at 4:30pm on the 28th of November 1878 with thirty-four crew and seventy-five passengers, including many women and children. Due to fog she was anchored between Great Mercury Island and Tapepe point from 11:45pm until 3:00am. Heavier fog set in after the ship was underway again and, when abreast of Slipper Island, she was moved towards the east away from land and a lookout was kept. The weather was calm in the morning, but still very foggy, and the passengers were up early, waiting for breakfast, which was late.  According to the distance run, taken from the log, at 8.05 am the vessel should have been 12 miles off Karewa Island. The second mate was on watch at 8:50am when Malcolm, who was on the bridge, saw breakers. He signaled full steam astern, then hard to starboard, just as the passengers were trooping down to breakfast. Only a few were seated when they felt the ship’s engines reverse, then almost immediately the vessel struck and bumped four times over the rocks. Sea flooded the engine room, and Malcolm ordered going slowly ahead, so as not to sink in deep water.

They found themselves in a small inlet, with rocks either side, and the bowsprit almost touching the precipice which rose around 300 feet ahead. While the sea was calm, a large swell caused the vessel to bump heavily, but as the water was shallow, the vessel was not in danger of slipping into deep water. At 10:30 am a boat with the mate and purser was dispatched to take news of the wreck to Tauranga. The ship, valued at 18,000 to 19,000 pounds, was partially insured with several companies.

SS Taranaki at Picton, c 1870s
Silver gelatin print by unknown photographer
Collection of Tauranga City Library, Pae Koroki Ref. ms-33-5-118

The first boat to take passengers ashore was lowered in five minutes, and within twenty minutes all four boats were in the water. However, it was three-quarters of an hour after they struck the rocks that the first boat with women and children left for the landing spot. Ashore with the passengers went bread, butter, jam, fruit, and lemonade, as Karewa Island had no water. Everyone was relieved no lives had been lost and there were no injuries. By afternoon the Taranaki had heeled 45 degrees to port. The crew and a passenger, Tauranga barrister Oliver Macey Quintal, saved the luggage and mail. The Bay of Plenty Times reported that he worked indefatigably like a Trojan. The second and third stewards (the Warren twins) and Samuel Westlake, who was off a training ship, were commended for swimming through a port to reach the luggage, whereas sluggish passengers had refused to carry their own portmanteaux. At low water, when it was possible to enter the saloon, the linen and silver was saved. The mate and the purser, who had rowed several miles to deliver news of the wreck, stopped at the pilot station at Mount Maunganui, where the Harbourmaster Captain Hannibal Marks assisted and delivered them to Tauranga in the pilot boat.

Ship Rowena at an unidentified wharf
Collection of Hamilton City Library, Ref. HCL_06579

It was 4:00 pm when two cutters, the Lancashire Lass and the Waretai which brought water, arrived by the wreck at Karewa Island. Captain Malcolm had ordered the boat crews to take the passengers to the cutters, but then the Staffa and the Rowena appeared, which took the rescued luggage and the passengers to Tauranga. Malcolm stayed overnight with the remaining crew and the cutters, and by 8:00 am next morning, the Taranaki had split; her fore part was hanging on rocks, the after part had sunk. He ordered one cutter to cruise and pick up floating packages.

On the 3rd December, five days after the Taranaki was wrecked, it was a Bank holiday and the Staffa took 20 passengers out to view the wreck. An easterly swell churned the insides of those on board, so basins, brandy and water were in demand. Near Karewa Island they saw floating timber, and on the north side of the island was a mass of debris. The ship's remains were on the rocks. When the after part sank in deep water, it took the engines with it. The foremast still stood, but it shook when a man ascended it. The fore hold was gutted and the keel had curled, due to the hull rolling on the rocks. Some of the men were landed to board the wreck and collect cords of rope and ship’s gear. It was thought floating debris would be cast ashore on Panepane Beach.

The Bay of Plenty Times, 3 December 1878
Courtesy of Papers Past

For the Inquiry, H.W. (Herbert William) Brabant, the Resident Magistrate, was assisted by nautical assessors Captain Clayton and Joseph Ellis. Mr. McKellar, who appeared for the Marine Department, cross-examined Malcolm. The crew and some passengers, including Quintal, gave evidence. Marks, who had worked on the coast for 38 years, gave his knowledge of wind currents and tides. The court's judgment was that the engines should have been slowed and soundings made. The chief officer Mr. Holm was reprimanded for not properly keeping his log. There was compass error and the officer's ignorance of the distance run was due to clock error or error in reading the clock. Malcolm’s ticket was not suspended, but he was ordered to pay costs of £25.10 shillings. Several men, among them Edward Mortimer Edgcumbe, chairman of the Town Board, collected donations. Fifty-seven pounds was presented with a letter of thanks to Malcolm and the crew which confirmed their confidence in Malcolm's ability was undiminished. They would be only too pleased to sail under his charge in the future.

This was not the first time the Taranaki had been wrecked. In 1868 she hit a rock in Tory Channel and was towed to Bowden’s Bay, but sank at the entrance and drifted into deeper water. Thirteen months later, thanks to a group of Wellington residents and some remarkable engineering for the time, she was raised.


Bay of Plenty Times, 30 November 1878: 3, 6, 7, 10 and 28 December 1878. (More than one reference in each paper)
Index to the NZ Section of the Register of All British Ships 1840-1940 (inclusive). Watt, M.N., Morris Netterville (1892) compiler. Tauranga Library. Nga Wahi Rangahou Sladden

Friday, 5 November 2021

The Tonanau and Te Haramiti, 1831

Early sailing vessels and visitors to Tauranga, Part XVII

In January 1831, a Maori taua utu (blood vengeance expedition) departed the Bay of Islands in a small fleet of waka. The fleet followed in the wake of Tananau (Go Slow), the great 80 foot waka taua of Te Haramiti, a noted northern tohunga. Bound for the Bay of Plenty and Tauranga, the taua hoped to boldly take the resident tribes by surprise and to avenge past losses there. Assembled at the instigation of Te Haramiti, the raiders comprised some 150 warriors, mainly Ngati Kuri from Northland’s East Coast, and Ngapuhi from the Bay itself. Alfred Brown who later became resident missionary at Tauranga, observed the fleet assembling at the Bay. He recorded that Te Haramiti’s Ngati Kuri contingent comprised ‘twenty chiefs, forty slaves, seven canoes and two cannon.’ Frederick Maning, a northern trader Pakeha-Maori described the entire expedition.

A hundred and fifty men were they – the pick and prime of their tribe. All rangatira, all warriors of name, few in numbers but, desperately resolute, they thought it little to defeat the thousand of the south, and take the women and children as prey.

A large Maori waka taua (war canoe) under sail

Though he was old and blind, Te Haramiti was an innovator. The two ship's guns that he transported to Tauranga marked a seminal event in the history of intertribal warfare - New Zealand’s first indigenous, long distance, amphibious artillery campaign. One of the Ngati Kuri purepo (great guns) was a 9-pound carronade, a mobile, medium calibre weapon eagerly sought by New Zealand’s musket chiefs at this time. The other was a great 18-pounder, almost five feet in length and weighing over 1000 pounds, or half an imperial ton. Te Haramiti believed that his great guns would break the deadlock in the intertribal balance of power, as by 1831 the Tauranga tribes, like Ngapuhi in the morth, had become fully armed with flintlock muskets.

Powered by paddles and flax sails (described by European sailors as ‘lug sails’) depending on wind and sea conditions, the pace of the little fleet was set by Te Haramiti’s great waka taua Tonanau, which carried the 18-pound carronade in the hull as ballast. The 9-pounder was carried in the waka of Tiki Whenua, a famous northern fighting man. During the voyage, ‘a huge taniwha’ (monster), possibly an elephant seal, sea lion or orca, attached itself to Tiki Whenua, which was considered a favourable omen. ‘It sported constantly among the canoes, often coming so close to the hero that he was able to pat it approvingly with his paddle, at which the creature seemed much pleased.’

During their dawn raid at the Mercury Islands, the raiders killed more than 100 Ngati Maru, before surprising, killing and enslaving many of the Ngai Te Rangi hapu on Tuhua or Mayor Island. Proceeding to Motiti Island, which had been abandoned by the inhabitants, the northerners hauled up their waka and camped for several days on Horepupo, a low, grassed plateau (long since eroded away), located half way along Motiti Spit.

Motiti Spit at low water, provides access between the main island and the old Matarehua Pa site (Taumaihi Island)

While engaged in plundering, cooking and devouring the crops and pigs of the Motiti Islanders, as well as some of their newly acquired slaves, Te Haramiti’s raiders were surprised, surrounded and attacked. Forewarned of the raider’s presence by the survivors on Tuhua, a large waka fleet transporting some 1,000 allied Bay of Plenty tribesmen, led by Hori Tupaea of Ngai Te Rangi, Te Waharoa of Ngati Haua and Titoko of Te Whakatohea, stormed ashore on Motiti Spit to obtain utu. Despite bringing their two carronades into action and courageously returning musket fire from their exposed position on the plateau, most northerners were systematically shot down, before they were scattered and slaughtered in fierce hand to hand fighting.

Kawiti’s 18-pound carronade, Ruapekapeka Pa, Kawakawa

Mounted and secured either on canoe shaped baulks of timber or on truck carriages on wooden wheels, Te Haramiti’s gunners employed their ships’ carronades as land based, artillery field pieces during the battle on Motiti Spit.

During the final melee, some Bay of Plenty warriors found Te Haramiti seated in the stern of Tonanau chanting karakia to give his warriors courage. They beat him to death with his fists, rather than shed his sacred blood. Determined not to be taken alive and enslaved and/or eaten, the heroic northern warrior Tiki Whenua, in the most spectacular battlefield suicide of the Musket Wars, placed his chest to the muzzle of the 9-pounder and ignited it with a fire stick. ‘Tiki Whenua good night!’ said one trader Pakeha-Maori who retold the story. Again, in one of great last stands of the intertribal Musket Wars, the rangatira Pako from Cape Reinga, armed only with his mere pounamu, fought on alone armed and surrounded. Despite wounds inflicted by musket balls and impeded by three spears, tipped with barbed heads, hanging from his body, Pako felled every Bay of Plenty opponent who engaged him with traditional rakau-Maori weapons of stone, bone and wood. Pako, was finally felled by a musket ball fired at close range.

Pako, the heroic rangatira from Cape Reinga

Pako, the rangatira from Cape Reinga is remembered by the descendants of both sides to this day, for his heroic last stand during the battle on Motiti Spit in 1831. During the battle, the 9-pound carronade and Tiki Whenua’s waka were claimed by warriors of Maungatapu Pa at Tauranga who were first to place their hands upon them. This artillery piece was subsequently fired on their marae to enhance the speeches of their victorious rangatira and to give the inhabitants a taste of the action. Titoko and Te Whakatohea took the 18-pounder and the waka Tonanau as battle trophies back to Opotiki. This was also tika or correct according to customary law, as they had overrun the gunners and were first to lay hands on both gun and waka.

In June 1831, the missionary leader Henry Williams watched the Ngapuhi chief Wharepoaka and 30 picked warriors from his Hikutu hapu board his sailing cutter which carried a bow mounted carronade. Their destination was Tauranga and their objective according to Williams, was ‘to endeavour to surprise some canoes off that harbour’, and avenge the defeat of Te Haramiti's expedition earlier that year. Two weeks later, Henry’s brother William, watched the return of Wharepoaka’s gunboat, noting ‘Their intention was to fight, but they were overawed by the enemy’s numbers.’

Meanwhile, at Opotiki, the 18-pound carronade was named Te Haramiti by Te Whakatohea after its original owner. This great gun continued to be fired on ceremonial occasions on their marae into the 1880s. Te Haramiti’s great waka Tonanau and Te Haramiti the carronade were seen lying alongside the Opotiki wharf in the vicinity of the yacht club building during the early 1900s, after which all recorded sightings cease.

Bentley, Trevor, Tribal Guns and Tribal Gunners: The Story of Maori Artillery in 19th Century New Zealand, Wilsonscott, Christchurch, 2013.
Grant-Taylor, Thomas L. and Foster Bernard, ‘Motiti Island’, Encyclopaedia of New Zealand –Te Ara, A. H. McLintock (ed.), 1966, › motiti-island
Walker, Ranganui, Opotiki-Mai-Tawhiti: Capital of Te Whakatohea, Penguin, Auckland, 2007.
Poverty Bay Herald, 27 August 1907: 4.
Maihi, Wiremu, ‘A Book Describing The Murder Of Hunga: The History of the Wars Carried Out Between the Tribes of Rotorua and Waikato, Jennifer Curnow (trans.), in Journal of the Polynesian Society, Vol. 99, 1990.
Maning, Frederick, Old New Zealand: A Tale of the Good Old Times by a Pakeha Maori, Creighton and Scales, Dunedin, 1863.
Brown, Alfred, 6 March, 1831, cited in Journal of the Polynesian Society, Vol. 13, 1904.
Williams, Henry, The Early Journals of Henry Williams, 1826-1840, L. M. Rogers (comp.), Pegasus Press, Christchurch, 1961.
Williams, W. and J; The Turanga Journals, 1840-1850, Frances Porter (ed.), Price Milburn, Wellington, 1974.

Sporing, Herman Diedrich, ‘New Zealand war canoe. From a Collection of Drawings made in the countries visited by Captain Cook’, Ms 23920f.48, British Museum. London, U. K. Photographic reproduction by Szilas, Canterbury Museum, Christchurch, New Zealand.
Motiti Island and Spit showing Matarehua Pa, Bay of Plenty, Image courtesy of Sunchaser Avocados,
Kawiti’s 18 pound carronade, Ruapekapeka Pa, Northland. Image courtesy of New Zealand Department of Conservation, Te Ruapekapeka, The Battle of Ruapekapeka,
Sainson, Louis, Auguste, ‘Portraits of Maori from Cape Reinga and Whangarei Districts’, 1827, C-010-025. Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington.

Tuesday, 2 November 2021

Wharf Street, Tauranga in the early years

From Tauranga City Library’s archives
A monthly blog about interesting items in our collection

A Henry Winkelmann (1860-1931) Tourist Series postcard featuring Wharf Street in the 1910s (Image 03-429) typifies many of the historic images within our Heritage and Research collection.  Wharf Street on a scale of ‘bustling’ to ‘abandoned’, looks closer to the later. 

Wharf Street, Tauranga (Image 03-429)

There is technically a crowd, three people, gathered by the roadside. A further two individuals talking by a car and four people walking are spread evenly throughout the scene. The image is described simply as “showing Hartley’s drapery”.  This is no one-horse town, but you might be forgiven for imagining “one horse town” to be at least a distant cousin.

Viewing this image on Pae Korokī with the “Zoom to 100%” tool reveals a lot more detail. 

The cables running the left-hand length of Wharf Street may still be telegraph lines, though the righthand pole shows a power cable running down into an electric light.   1915 was the year the town moved from gas street lights to electric street lights (October 2nd), though in this photograph I can only see a single electric street light. Perhaps the rest were still being installed? 

Portion of Image 03-429

In the distance as Wharf street rises, lines of Californian fan palms bristle out of their sturdy wooden cages. These were a gift from William Charles Berridge in 1911, then manager of an experimental farm  for the New Zealand Government.  Berridge wanted to beautify Wharf Street and thought Californian fan palms would do just that.  Letters to the editors complaining about the cages suggest not everyone agreed.  Some claimed they were an eye sore, and others a road hazard for motor vehicles.  The first recorded motor vehicle accident in Tauranga was 1914. I don’t think it involved the wooden cages but if it did, surely the target would have been the Californian fan palms themselves. 

Portion of Image 03-429

Wharf Street in the late 19th and early 20th centuries was one of those town and country streets that changed in character as it crept up the hill away from the commercial Strand end toward Cameron Road.  Yes, it had the imposing Bank of New Zealand (built 1876) and the Bank of Australia (1914) as well as the Town Hall (1914-1916). But it also had at various times, a shooting gallery, an electricity substation, a livery stable for horses and at the western end, open paddocks with overgrown Macrocarpa hedges and gorse. “Country” came right into town too, in the form of roaming cows, bringing complaints about blocked doorways and produce munched right from within their display shelves. It was roving cows that inspired our wooden cages, and that were eventually out-(by)lawed in 1932. 

Cows on Cameron road in the 1920s (Image 99-740)

Solicitors, architects and dentists resided on Wharf Street, and operated businesses.   In the 1910s you could have your suit altered at Mr Lyford's the tailor's, then get it dyed 'to look like new' at Tauranga Dyeworks. You could book your place on a service car to Rotorua or Matamata with Mr Baigent the agent. You could shop for plants and 'fancy goods', have a singing lesson with Mr Meadows (a former opera singer you know), and buy chocolate from Mr Whitaker. You could alter your will at Sharp, Tudhope, and have your teeth fixed by Mr Poole the dentist. Then if your jaw wasn't hurting too much afterwards, you could partake of refreshments at the Windsor Tearooms (later the Empress).  Finally, you could round off the day by going to the pictures at the Town Hall:  the films were all silent of course, enlivened by the music of the hard-working Borough Council pianist. 

Clipping from the 1907 District Electors' Roll for the Borough
Such variety in one short street speaks of a small, hard working population (just 1346 in 1911) building a modern and prosperous commercial town that included community facilities and connected with other centres in our region. 

Bellamy, A.C. (1982), Tauranga 1882-1982
District Electors' roll for the Borough of Tauranga (1907, 1911, 1913, 1916, 1919, 1923, 1933)
Tauranga City Council information panels, text provided by Stephanie Smith, former archivist at Tauranga City Library

This archival item has been digitised and is available to view on Pae Korokī. For more information about this and other items in our collection, visit Pae Korokī or email the Heritage & Research Team:

Written by Harley Couper, Heritage Specialist at Tauranga City Library, and Stephanie Smith, former archivist at Tauranga City Libraries