Showing posts with label 1990s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1990s. Show all posts

Friday, 21 July 2023

Shapeshifter: Our Landscape and the Te Puna Quarry

Te Puna 1954

When David and Shirley Sparks came to start farming in Te Puna the year after this 1954 photograph [1] was taken, the Quarry that lay on the hill to the south-east of their farm was a merely noticeable, rather than a noteworthy, feature. The metalled road that snaked up to it was little different in surface quality to any of the roads in the vicinity – their pale dustiness stands out in this image. Te Puna Road runs up the middle, Borell Road is off at centre right, even a pale streak of Te Puna Station Road is discernible at upper left. The rhyolite used to make and maintain them came from the Tauranga County’s quarry, at that time run by the Smythe quarrying company. The Quarry, in this picture just a background smudge on the dark Minden ridge at top right, had by that stage been a source of roading stone since 1911.

And that, it seemed, was all it would ever be. Rhyolite is not commended by most roading engineers – it is highly crystalline and degrades quickly in comparison to andesite, often called ‘blue chip’ and familiar to all of us who drive on tar-sealed roads. It is what Brian Robbins, who took over the Quarry from the Smythes in the mid-fifties, described as a “woolly” rock [2], good for the first course at the base of a roadway, and for creating a quick slurry in preparation for a firmer, harder-wearing surface, and not much else. But it was handy, and it was cheap.

By 1975,  however, this local source of rock had become a landmark that could be used as a navigational aid from well out to sea around Tauranga Moana. Here’s a closer shot [3], taken from the (now sealed) intersection of Quarry Road and State Highway 2.

Te Puna 1975

While some of the pastoral landscape typical of early twentieth-century Te Puna remains upland, and new kiwifruit and citrus orchards are coming to occupy the flats, the Quarry itself now looms as an industrial behemoth over this benign countryside. What were the reasons for this extraordinary expansion of rock mining activity on the Minden?

The answer has to do with both navigation and Depression-era forestry.  As economies recovered from World War II, new stirrings of ambition for the development of shipping, and the export of logs from mature radiata forests in and out of the Pilot Bay wharves at Mount Maunganui came to the fore [4].  (It seems odd, now, to see that the immediately alternative contender for a major port in the Bay of Plenty was Whakatane [5]. This is not the place to discuss the debate that ensued.) Outcomes, however, were to be seen in a range of 1960s reclamation projects that extended all around the Tauranga Harbour edge and, eventually, out into its depths [6] - and (as a sidenote) even contemplated eliminating the Waikareao estuary entirely [7].

Waikareao Estuary reclamation proposal

The image is of a print block, showing (in reverse) a map of the planned project, which did not proceed beyond the proposal stage. It illustrates, however, the scale of thinking that exponentially increased demand for exactly the sort of rock that came from the Te Puna Quarry.

Here’s where some of it went [8].

Strand reclamation

Anyone familiar with the present Quarry Park will recognise the useful lumpiness of rocks that settle and lean into each other, creating an inelegant but useful mass that could cope with the sea swirling through below and the pressure of cars parking above. The Strand reclamation was finished in time for two royal visits over 1962 and 1963 [9], glamorous occasions for a workaday material.

Most of the Quarry rock went into the water. Huge quantities were required for port development.  Trucks rolled out for twenty years, making a new shoreline beyond the Mission House. This 1969 image [10] shows the start of the Sulphur Point causeway, not for a harbour bridge but another purpose entrely.

Sulphur Point causeway

The causeway was part of the maritime enterprise that became the Port of Tauranga.

Training wall heading north

The astonishing “training wall” [11] in the middle of the water was designed by hydrological engineers in London, working with a tank that modelled Tauranga Moana’s tidal flows. It was the flows that were being “trained”. The line of rhyolite boulders intercepted the moving sand and built it up in sufficient quantities to enable, eventually, the advent of container cranes and a new wall of stacked containers. 

This phase of port work was completed by 1976 and the Quarry operations ceased. Here’s what it, and Te Puna, looked like in 1982[12]:

Te Puna 1982

My mother Shirley’s caption to this photograph reads: “The Te Puna Quarry showing signs of weed re-growth during … years of closure. Land development for subdivision of the Sparks farm in the foreground.” In truth, the actual foreground is occupied by clumps of Quarry rocks, features for a new garden my mother was making, in existence still.

In 1997 Shirley created, from Council records, a hand-drawn map (she chose to orient it to the south) of the effects of other subdivisions. Forty years after she came to live underneath the Minden, and twenty years after Don Thwaites’ 1975 photograph, the area shows a close-packed jigsaw of lifestyle blocks.

Shirley’s map 1997

From the hills to the sea. Quarry rhyolite underlies an emphatic story of rapid infrastructural growth and development in Tauranga Moana. The one constant is the Quarry reserve’s shape and extent [13], which has remained unchanged ever since it was gazetted in 1912. The same cannot be said of the landscape around it.

section of SO 13702

References

[2] Conversation with the author, December 2017

[3] Image courtesy of Don Thwaites, by permission

[4] Bay of Plenty Times, 23 January 1950, p.2

[5] Bay of Plenty Times, 24 January 1950, p.3

[6] A relative term.  Local wisdom described the average depth of Tauranga Harbour as “eighteen inches”.  Dredging and the hydrology of the training wall exploited harbour channels to the full.

[9] Visiting monarchs were King Bhumibol and Queen Sirikit of Thailand and Queen Elizabeth II

[11] Image courtesy of Brian Robbins.  The explanation is also his – from a conversation with the author, December 2017

[12] Image courtesy of Shirley Sparks

[13] Section of SO 13702 TePuna Eastern Grazing Run 1906 SAK33VIII, cadastral map courtesy of LINZ

Friday, 24 September 2021

The Life of the Mind at Brain Watkins Hall


Any historical researcher must at some stage ponder when what might be loosely called ‘stuff’ becomes, in a more dignified term, ‘the stuff of history.’ The Tauranga Historical Society Committee conferred on the subject during a recent tidy-up, when the first Register of those who made bookings for meetings at its, relatively modern, Hall in the grounds of Brain Watkins House came to light.

This unassuming notebook, it was agreed, was not to be discarded – its listings provided a unique outline of how a new building closely adjacent to one of Tauranga’s oldest houses was incorporated  into the activities of a few, apparently disparate, groups. In due course, we wondered, the activities of those groups might possibly come to be of historical interest? Thus, we also agreed, the first Register is arguably the stuff, as well as something of an accident, of history. Justifiably, therefore, the subject of a THS blog.

The Hall Register, dated “Nov 1998” on its back cover, came into use on 1 February 1999. Under the supervision of Sue Ferguson, then the live-in caretaker of Brain Watkins House, the door was opened and the lights turned on for the Tauranga UFO Information Group. This group seems still to be active in Tauranga – in 2020 its meetings were being held monthly at the Senior Citizens Club [1] – but for the first decade of the new millennium their monthly gatherings were regularly noted in the Hall Register.


Other early adopters of the new venue were the Tauranga Embroiderers Guild, who left a nice comment about the excellent light [2] and the fee, and the Tauranga Hearing Association Social Club  who got together to consider a wide-ranging series of practical topics – the Road Code, the Citizens Advice Bureau, stroke rehabilitation and other therapies, Search and Rescue; in May 2000 a happy overlap delivered a talk from Harvey Cooke of the UFO Information Group … the list, fascinating to anyone researching the history of deaf culture, goes on ….

As well as the establishment of a venue for the Historical Society’s own meetings, much appreciated after many years of ‘camping’ in a variety of rented or borrowed rooms [3], the Hall became an early base for Tauranga’s Aviation History Society, eventually to become the Bay of Plenty Classic Aircraft Trust [4]. It is good to know that their ambitions for a museum of aviation came true.

The Hall’s simplicity and serene garden location seems to have been attractive to several religious groups.  The first such to use the Hall was Unity on the Mount, which had become an approved organisation for the purpose of the Marriage Act 1955 on 21 June 1999 [5]. Two months later, on Sunday 5 September, Mr George Watson organized two hours of worship, the first of many weekly gatherings that came to an end in September 2004. A Catherine Ruby Watson was among the list of marriage celebrants published in the Gazette of 26 April 2001 [6]. (The Hall Register does not reveal that any of the bookings actually involved a marriage ceremony.)  In August 2000 Unity on the Mount’s Sunday services were complemented by the Thursday meetings of the Sri Sathya Sai Group of Tauranga [7]. When Unity stopped using the Hall, their Sunday slot was filled from October 2004 by the Society of Friends, aka Quakers, an arrangement that continues to this day.

Tauranga Historical Society’s Annual General Meeting in April 1995
Tauranga Historical Society Collection

In the middle of the decade Hall bookings spread out across a wider range of organisations – the Soroptimists had met there over the latter part of 2001, then went elsewhere, but two years later were back and soon joined by Tauranga branches of the University of the Third Age, the NZ Association of Medical Herbalists, the Herb Society, an association of kinesiologists, one of homeopathic therapists, and the Theosophical Society. The Yoga Centre, another present-day user, makes an appearance in the records for in July and August 2009. But it seems that over the next summer months – the first Register ends in January 2010 – only the Quakers were using the Hall.

What does this small body of information amount to? Might I hope that some researcher of the future, seeking evidence of ‘alternative’ social networks in Tauranga at the turn of the twenty-first century, would find this list as intriguing as I do? Based on the example of the Hearing Association and the UFO Information Group, there was at the very least an exchange of ideas, a distinctive life of the mind, among those who came and went from the Hall. The Register is not evidence of overlapping membership, of course. That is something for my researcher of the future to explore. What is evident, especially in 2004, is that, among themselves, word got around. (This was after the World Wide Web [8] but before Facebook [9].)

It comes to this: even if these groups’ commonality derived only from the circumstance of their regular meetings at this small, simple and low-cost (then hired out at a flat rate of $20 per session) venue, I feel I have made a case, even from this short distance of time, for the historical importance of the first Register of bookings for the Tauranga Historical Society’s Hall.

References

[2] The writer is aware that even better light, as well as space for an expanded group of embroiderers, was eventually found at the Tauranga Rowing Club’s Clubrooms in Memorial Park, Tauranga.

[3] Such as the downstairs lounge of the Baptist Church Centre, cnr Cameron Road and 13th Ave: https://paekoroki.tauranga.govt.nz/nodes/view/23916

[4]  https://register.charities.govt.nz/CharitiesRegister/Search.  See also https://www.classicflyersnz.com/aboutus.html

[7] This group, too, seems still to be active: https://www.sathyasai.org.nz/Tauranga

[8] “The Web began to enter everyday use in 1993-4 when websites for general use started to become available.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Wide_Web

[9] “Facebook was then opened on September 26, 2006 to everyone aged 13 and older with a valid email address.”  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Facebook

Friday, 16 April 2021

Recent ANZAC Tradition in Tauranga Moana

Flagpoles, Tutereinga Marae

In April 1995, Howie Wilson says, he and three of his mates found the Anzac Day crowds at the Mount Maunganui RSA too large for their liking. The press of people in the club did not allow for the quiet reflection and exchange of memories that marked the day for him and Lincoln Smith, Perry Smith, and Tapuraka Dickson, all veterans of New Zealand’s campaigns in Malaya, Borneo and Viet Nam. They took themselves off, with a couple of crates of beer, to a retreat within sight of Hairini marae.[1] (This was not a new thing - old soldiers had made it their informal catch-up place as early as the 1980s.)

Marae are places of connection and re-connection, places imbued with meaning. It is not, therefore, surprising that the idea that came to Howie and his former brothers-in-arms on Anzac Day 1995 brought together past and future commemorations and began a new tradition. Five years later, after much korero and organisation, Ngāti Tapu hosted a dawn ceremony at Waikari marae on the Matapihi peninsula.

Howie and Donna planning, Tutereinga Marae

The first Parade Commander was a retired former Regimental Sergeant Major of the Hauraki Battalion, WO Ist Class Ben Morunga. The Hauraki Battalion has proved to be staunch in its support ever since, an acknowledgement of the large proportion of Maori who served in the three South East Asia campaigns. All of the veterans mentioned, except for Howie himself, have now passed on.

This was to be the first in a nineteen-year sequence, interrupted in 2020 when Covid-19 restrictions prevented any but the tiniest of Anzac gatherings.[2] The original plan was to hold the service at Hungahungatoroa, but a tangi intervened and the planning pivoted to nearby Waikari, “which was better, really,” says Howie. “The mist was well down and the contingent just came up out of it.” He was surprised and gratified at the turnout – about 500 people attended, many of them young.

Other marae were not slow to put in their bids as hosts. Over the years, dawn services have been held at nearly every marae in Tauranga Moana, including Hairini of course (in 2019) and Opureroa on Matakana Island. Given that there are 22 of them by my count [3], it was quite some time before Te Puna’s turn came.

This was to have been in 2020, the Covid year. Pirirakau elders were to be sadly disappointed; even sadder, two of the most forceful bidders, Maria Ngatai and Kiritoha Tangitu, had passed away before they could see their home marae, Tutereinga, be the venue for the service.


 “I did form the Tauranga Moana Tumutauenga Returned Services Association Inc [4],”  Howie told me.  “But I never really needed it. The service stays the same each year – only the people change.”  As the ranks of the original 38 members of the society – many of whom had served in the South-east Asian conflicts – dwindled, Howie found Tania Smith standing alongside him. She took on the takohanga in memory of her own dad, Lincoln. And the crowds, especially the presence of young people, got bigger every year.

Tania held the promise to Pirirakau as Covid restrictions relaxed. At the end of March 2021, a small group of planners got their marching orders: the wreath-making, the breakfast menu, the site of the rum station (just outside the marae), the lighting – Howie does not want anything too bright – the Ratana band and the Parade Marshall. Tania wistfully wonders if the kura choir might be coached in time to sing Hikoi kia toa, “but ke te pai if not ...” and the after-party venue (the Te Puna Rugby Club) is sorted. Photos of tipuna for the order of service, and their placement and presentation on the porch of the wharenui, no detail too small:  this will be a big day for Te Puna and Pirirakau are on their mettle.  “Expect the wharekai to  be full,” Tania tells Pirirakau whaea Donna Bidois.

“It’s an honour and a privilege,” Donna responds.

“Each marae has its own wairua,” Howie concludes. The old soldier stands in contemplation in front of the wharenui, flanked by Pirirakau whanau. Suddenly the connections are everywhere – those who are to be remembered, those who are yet to come. Marae are not monuments or memorials, but their power to contain time and memory, for “learned discourse, customary oratory, laughter, nostalgia and sharing sorrow and tears” [5] as the Ngai Te Ahi Trust describes Hairini, means it is no surprise that his idea of aligning military Anzac traditions with Maori tikanga has taken root and flourishes.

References

[1] For a useful description of this marae from interviews with twelve members of the Ngai Te Ahi hapū,  see Teddy, Nikora and Bernard, MAI Rreview, 2008, 1 Article 3; https://www.researchgate.net/publication/33051444_Place_attachment_of_Ngai_Te_Ahi_to_Hairini_Marae
[2] For instance, a few locals waited for dawn outside the near-completed Te Puna Memorial Hall, maintaining social distance.  Elsewhere, people followed public health messages and stood at the end of their driveways at 6 am.
[3] https://maorimaps.com/node/14479
[4] Records of the society, now dissolved, can be found at https://is-register.companiesoffice.govt.nz/
[5] https://www.ngaiteahi.co.nz/rohe/hairini-marae/