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St James Church, Kōwhai

In the new year, while heading home from a bit of a road trip around the lower South Island, I popped in on my relatives at Kōwhai, near Kaikōura, as I’m wont to do when able.

The last time I was able to pop in was in early 2007, so there was no surprise that things had changed in the intervening six years. However the extent of the change was surprising.

You see, my relatives can be found in the grounds of the old St James Church, and since my last visit the property had been sold by the Nelson Diocese to a private individual.

The church and its grounds are listed by the New Zealand Historic Places Trust (NZHPT) as a Historic Place Category 2, meaning it has ‘historical or cultural heritage significance or value.’

The following is from the NZHPT register for the church:

Historical Significance

The building has historical significance as the first Anglican church at Kaikoura, and for the reminder it provides of the importance of Kaikoura’s hinterland in the early decades of settlement in the area. It also has historical significance for the interdenominational co-operation of the local Anglican and Presbyterian congregations that led to the church’s construction in 1873, and characterised its early use.

Physical Significance

St James Anglican Church has architectural significance as an example of a simple gothic revival building that has grown organically in order to accommodate a larger congregation. As a consequence of additions in 1882, the church’s plan is unorthodox. The ‘T’-shaped church has transepts but no chancel, with the altar situated at the intersection.

Cultural Significance

St James has social and spiritual significance for its early practical ecumenicalism, and as a focus of Anglican worship in the Kaikoura hinterland for more than a century (1873–1987). The former church also has social significance for its role since 1987 as the home of the Kaikoura Art Society. The graveyard has social, spiritual and historical significance as the resting place of a number of St James’ early parishioners.

I’m a fifth-generation New Zealander. My branch of the Palmer family arrived in Nelson in 1843 aboard the barque Phoebe, the first vessel sent out by the New Zealand Company at the reduced terms of passage (which basically means it was a bit cheaper). By the mid-1860s the family had relocated to Kaikōura, stock and all, and started exploring greater district … and discovering moa eggs.

The family plot

Three generations of my family are connected to St James Church. My great-great-grandfather (and one of his brothers) and my great-grandfather are buried there, and my grandfather’s ashes were sprinkled there in 1985.

Alongside that, it is likely that my great-great-grandfather was involved in the building of the church, having rented out farm buildings for services prior to the church’s construction, and due to his involvement in local body affairs as a member of the North Canterbury Hospital Board and as a Kaikōura county councillor.

Clearly St James is not just another old church, but a regionally important old church, and obviously it has personal significance too, not just to me and my wider family but to the families of the other people buried there.

Gate, with family plot in background

But, because of the sale of the church and lands, access to the graves is now difficult … unless you just march on as we did.

As the news article linked to above states, providing public access to the graves was a condition of sale. Here are the legal details from the encumbrance:

a.   All existing rights, if any, of those who have purchased burial rights in the Burial Ground are preserved for the duration of the term of this Encumbrance subject to those persons and their families being responsible for all regulatory requirements of burial;

b.   For the purpose of visiting the Burial Ground and/or exercising any existing burial rights, access -to the Burial Ground is granted on the following terms:

i.    By foot on the designated path along the northern boundary of the Land;

ii.   Between the hours of 9 a.m. and 5 p.m. Monday to Friday inclusive;

iii.   On other days or times with specific permission of the Encumbrancer,

And yet, as of our visit over two years after the lodging of the encumbrance, there was no ‘path along the northern boundary,’ and only signs saying no access. There was nothing explaining the right of access, or how to contact the ‘Encumbrancer’ in order to seek specific permission on other days.

This situation has upset me in ways which I wouldn’t have expected. The shock of finding that I was no longer freely able access to my ancestors’ graves left me dumbfounded. And the feelings and thoughts I have had since have demonstrated to me a greater connection to my ancestry than I expected.

Seeing what the current owner had done to the grounds nearly brought me to tears. She has, in my opinion, disrespected the graveyard and made changes to the grounds that are in no way in keeping with the heritage value of the site.

Obviously this is a personal issue, but I imagine I would be having some of the same thoughts and feelings regardless of those ancestral links. Selling a church is one thing, selling graves is a different matter entirely.

I believe that the destruction caused by the construction of the Wellington motorway would no longer be considered a reasonable action. I’m sure I wouldn’t be alone in saying that there ought to be a sacredness to graveyards, whether Māori, colonial or contemporary.

Ancestral gravestone

This situation has caused me to ask a number of questions, some of the new owner, and some more generally.

The first, and trickiest, concerns the weight we give to preserving our heritage, not just the big and the famous but the lesser-known and regionally important.

The second concerns the power that individuals and authorities have in ensuring that, should sites like St James Church fall into private ownership, there are processes in place that ensure public access (preferably without the limitations of the St James encumbrance), and that any changes to the site, whether it’s the building or the grounds, are in keeping with the heritage values of the site itself.

Not everything can be saved and preserved, nor indeed should it be, and these are big questions with no easy answers, but they are issues that need to be addressed.

Otago Central Rail Trail between Wedderburn and Ranfurly

Jock wasn’t the only Te Ara staffer to spend some of his Christmas break on the seat of a bicycle. I spent a few days enjoying the Otago Central Rail Trail.

I ride less than Jock, but my relationship with the bicycle is somewhat different from his. I’ve always enjoyed cycling. As soon as I was old enough to ride on the roads, I rode to school pretty much every day, regardless of the weather. The trip to primary school was under a kilometre, college was about two-and-a-half kilometres; but I wasn’t allowed to ride to intermediate as it was deemed too far (and there was a free bus).

I would also ride for pleasure in the holidays and, when I got my 12-speed, would think nothing of the 40-kilometre round trip to Days Bay, or a similarly long ride someplace else (or noplace else if, I felt like it). When I got my first mountain bike I was happy to take that for a ride in the hills – my favourite ride (not that I’ve done it for a while) is up to the Brooklyn wind turbine then down to Red Rocks and back home via Island Bay.

The Otago Central Rail Trail had long been in my plans and when the opportunity arose to do it this year I wasn’t going to turn it down. Our group based ourselves in Naseby which isn’t actually on the rail trail and involved lots of shuttling various vehicles to and from the day’s start and end points. But it meant we were flexible to do the track however we wanted, deciding which legs to do based on the weather, energy levels etc.

Trail sign at Wedderburn

The first day was a slow start, only a short stretch as a warm up, mainly downhill - Wedderburn to Kokonga, 31.5 kilometres. However, at about the halfway point of leg one we met a rain storm. I got to Ranfurly without getting too wet but as the rain settled in, and with cars at Wedderburn and Kokonga I realised someone (i.e. me) would have to ride back to Wedderburn in order to rescue the others from the weather.

The next day we woke to snow!!

Snow at Naseby. In summer.

We decided to do the picturesque leg from Wedderburn to Ōmakau, 41.1 kilometres. It was a little chilly and we had a constant headwind, breeze really, but it was a pleasant enough ride and the scenery was at times spectacular. We also got to see the Poolburn viaduct and tunnels and the older tunnellers’ camp.

45° south sign west of Wedderburn

A close-up of the sign

Poolburn viaduct

The next day was Kokonga to Middlemarch (the traditional finishing point of the trail), 41.9 kilometres. This included a lovely little trip along a gorge of the Taieri River, and through Hyde, past the site of the Hyde rail disaster and the Hyde rail disaster memorial. Fortunately we all managed an incident free ride.

Hyde rail disaster memorial

Arriving in Middlemarch

Day four was Ōmakau to Clyde (the traditional starting point of the trail), 37.2 kilometres. It was the hottest day, reaching 35 degrees in Alexandra, though it felt much hotter than that on the exposed track coming into Clyde. I just love the parched, rocky landscape around that part of the country, and even the intense heat wasn’t enough to dampen my enjoyment of it.

'The parched, rocky landscape': hills around Chatto Creek and Galloway

As the only one in the group not to have done the trail before, I did the last day on my own, just so I could say I completed the whole thing. Ranfurly to Tiroiti, 25.5 kilometres. While I only needed to stop at Kokonga, I wanted to revisit the lovely little Taieri River gorge again. And a good thing too as the Ranfurly to Kokonga stretch is the dullest stretch, not helped by the howling headwind I had, so that last bit of gorgeous scenery made me happy.

The little Taieri River gorge (which I’m not sure has an actual name) on the way to Tiroiti

The track is classed as easy, and it is, with those nice steady gradients that trains needed to tackle hills. And every day we took it easy, with regular stops, long lunches and just enjoying the surrounds. We could have done most of it in half the time, but we weren’t in any rush and it was a nice way to do it. And with the long southern summer days we also had time to do a bit of exploring farther afield on the way home to Naseby.

The trail between Ranfurly and Kokonga, showing one of the little info huts (though I’m not entirely sure if this one had anything in it)

All along the trail are huts containing historical information about the area you’re passing through, not that I bothered much with that, I was just having fun being on the bike again. So much so that when we visited Hanmer Springs a few days later I forewent a trip to the hot pools with the group for a ride up Jacks Pass on the bike. It was a stupid idea, but that’s another story…

Nicole Whaitiri, of Moriori descent, admires a Moriori tree carving in a Chatham Islands forest (click for image credit)

Over a period of almost 10 years we’ve documented New Zealand’s places from top to bottom, and last week we published our coverage of four remote places – New Zealand’s offshore islands (including Stewart Island/Rakiura, which is not so far off shore).

The very notion of an island evokes romantic visions – as Places theme editor Malcolm McKinnon remarked when launching this group of stories, these places ‘conjure up all the images and fantasies associated with desert islands, treasure islands or made-up islands’. And yet images of white sands, turquoise waters and piña coladas on the beach are somewhat off target when it comes to the subantarctic islands, which sit in the roaring forties and furious fifties and are prone to vicious, howling storms – or the Chatham Islands, with their peat bogs and cloudy weather.

Yet the histories of all these places bear witness to humans’ dreams of island life. The human history of the subantarctic islands is largely one of thwarted dreams – a fascinating tale of Polynesian seafarers, European sealers, castaways, shiploads of British settlers (who built a settlement on Auckland Island, but lasted less than three years), wartime coast-watchers, meteorologists and hopeful but unsuccessful farmers. The only group who managed to stick it out longer than five years were Māori and Moriori from the Chatham Islands. The subantarctics remain home to massive numbers of seabirds, seals and sea lions, as well as colourful and eye-catching megaherbs.

Humans have had more success on the Chatham Islands, continuously occupied by Moriori from the 1400s. These peaceable people were devastated after the arrival of Māori in the 1830s, but today are seeing a resurgence of their culture, with Kōpinga marae opening in 2005. The Chathams are the size of greater Auckland, but with a population of just 660.

Stewart Island, the country’s third main island, was named Rakiura by Māori for its glowing skies, and is just an hour by ferry from Bluff. Famous for its tītī (muttonbird) harvest, it’s a mecca for trampers, with Rakiura National Park covering about 85% of the island.

The volcanic Kermadec Islands, at the northernmost reaches of New Zealand’s territory, have a mild subtropical climate – and a captivating (if intermittent) human history. Polynesian visitors came from the 1300s; European whalers plundered the waters; the Bell family farmed Raoul Island from 1878; and Germans used the Kermadecs as a hideout during the First World War. Today the islands are a nature reserve where the only human residents are Department of Conservation staff – but the avian population is booming.

We hope you enjoy the stories of these remote and remarkable places as much as we enjoyed working on them.

Malcolm launches the last of the Places entries

On Wednesday night Te Ara launched its offshore islands entries. This was both a proud and sad occasion for Te Ara. We are proud because the completion of those entries means that we now have the whole of New Zealand covered in our Places theme. This fine collection of accurate, beautifully illustrated information represents a signal contribution to the exploration of this country’s history and culture. The 22 regions covered have been the work of many people, but the person who has overseen it and must take much of the credit is Malcolm McKinnon.

This is where the sadness comes in, because the completion of Places meant that on Wednesday we also farewelled Malcolm, who for nine years, following Claudia Orange’s departure, has been the theme editor of Places. A distinguished historian with an encyclopedic knowledge of New Zealand (and indeed world) history, Malcolm had also been trained as a geographer. He brought those skills to bear on his magnificent reference work, The New Zealand historical atlas (1997), where every one of the 100 plates invites hours of absorbing study. With his mastery of time and place, Malcolm was the ideal person to oversee the Places theme.

He did so brilliantly – writing no less then five of the entries:

• Bay of Plenty, the very first place, which we launched in Tauranga to an expectant crowd of 11!
• Manawatū–Horowhenua, which Malcolm made really interesting, thus overturning my Wellington-centred prejudice that it was the country’s most boring region
• Volcanic Plateau, which attracted particular enthusiasm from the tourist operators of the region
• Otago, where Malcolm’s Scots heritage came to the fore, and the locals, about 150 of them, just loved the entry at the Dunedin launch
• Marlborough, in which, as always, Malcolm took the reader expertly from Wairau iwi to wine.

Malcolm also made a huge commitment to the other Places entries. With impeccable judgement he helped choose the authors and then used all his very considerable powers of diplomacy to work with them, checked and read many times every word they produced, wrote most of the captions, took a leading role in selecting resources (working first with Shirley Williams and then Janine Faulknor),  took part in heated debates about the entry colour schemes, and attended most of the launches. Above all, he liberally sprinkled every entry with maps – of geology, landforms, vegetation, iwi locations, military engagements, government boundaries, and inevitably rail lines.  The Places entries reflect his skills on every page.

Nor was this all. Malcolm has been a marvellous colleague in the Te Ara team. He read every entry in all the other themes too, and would draw on his huge knowledge to pick up errors or suggest more felicitous wordings, all expressed in his minuscule handwriting. He was a constant source of information and bibliographic advice to the whole team. He also made special contributions to the Economy and the City theme – where he was the theme editor for the economy part and turned all that scary economics jargon into clear English – and to the Government and Nation theme, where he worked closely with the theme editors, Nigel Roberts and Stephen Levine.

And of course he was our go-to map man. Any Te Ara map went to Malcolm for sign-off, and all of them are very much clearer and more accurate as a result.

I personally have now worked with Malcolm in various roles for some 40 years. I cannot believe that I will not work with him again in the future. I can be a fairly forthright person at times, but I cannot in all honesty remember one serious disagreement over that time; and I can remember countless occasions when I have learnt heaps from him. So thank you Malcolm for your enormous contribution to Te Ara. It has been a privilege and a delight working with you.  Your wisdom, your respect for the truth of time and place, and your human generosity have greatly improved the encyclopedia and made working here so much more enjoyable for all concerned.

by Peter Clayworth and Andy Palmer

New Zealand's rowing eights with their gold medals, 1972 (click for image credit)

The 30th Olympic Games begins in London this Friday. To mark the occasion, Te Ara has just launched its story on the Olympic and Commonwealth games. Written by renowned sports writer Joseph Romanos, it covers a century of New Zealand’s involvement in the games. It sets out the achievements of our athletes, including many of the fascinating stories behind their triumphs and tragedies at the games.

New Zealand athletes first competed at the 1908 London Olympics. The three New Zealanders were part of a combined Australasian team, with Harry Kerr winning our first medal, a bronze in the 3,500-metre walk. The 1908 team marched in the opening ceremony behind an Australian flag, but the flag bearer was New Zealand hurdler Henry Murray.

From 1920 New Zealand entered its own teams in the Olympics. At the 1928 Amsterdam Olympics welterweight boxer Ted Morgan was the first member of a New Zealand team to win a gold medal. Morgan remains our only boxing gold medallist, but light-heavyweight boxer Kevin Barry was awarded a silver medal in highly controversial circumstances. At the 1984 Los Angeles games, Barry fought in the semi-final against the great American boxer Evander Holyfield, the favourite to win the gold medal. Barry was clearly outmatched and near the end of the second round was floored. As Holyfield’s knockout punch was thrown after the referee had called a break, the American was promptly disqualified. The mostly local crowd was outraged; the boxers and the referee had to be escorted from the ring by police. The match was awarded to Barry, but as a knockout victim he could not box in the final. He was therefore automatically awarded the silver medal. Barry went on to manage heavyweight boxer David Tua, who had been the bronze medallist at the 1992 Barcelona Olympics.

For New Zealanders the highlight of the 1936 Berlin Olympics was Jack Lovelock’s victory in the 1,500 metres. Berlin was also notable for political controversy, with the games being used as a propaganda showcase for the Nazi regime. In the USA there was serious debate on whether to boycott the games in protest at Nazi anti-Semitism. In the end American athletes, including the great Jesse Owens, did compete at Berlin.

Political controversies have continued to dog the Olympics. New Zealand became the target of a boycott movement in 1976, as African countries withdrew from the Montreal Olympics in protest at the tour of South Africa, then under an apartheid regime, by the All Black rugby team. John Walker’s triumph at Montreal, winning the gold medal in the 1,500 metres, was somewhat dimmed by the absence of top African runners.

At the 1952 Helsinki Olympics Yvette Williams won the long jump, the first gold medal for a New Zealand woman athlete. Her first two attempts were ‘no jumps’, so Williams third jump was a do-or-die effort. Williams also came 10th in the discus and sixth in the shot put. Her long jump victory remained New Zealand’s only gold medal in field events until Valerie Adams (at that time Valerie Vili) won the shot put gold at Beijing in 2008.

The rowing eight won New Zealand’s only gold medal at the 1972 Munich Olympics. Their triumph is remembered as much for events at the medal ceremony as for those on water. For the first time ‘God defend New Zealand‘ was played at the ceremony in place of ‘God save the Queen’. This was not, however, the first time ‘God defend New Zealand’ had been played at the Olympics. When Yvette Williams was awarded her gold medal in 1952, the Finnish band played both ‘God save the Queen’ and ‘God defend New Zealand.

New Zealand's sailing medallists, 1992: (L–R) Leslie Egnot, Rod Davis, Don Cowie, Craig Monk and Jan Shearer. (Click for image credit)

New Zealand has achieved a high proportion of its gold medal victories on the water, with wins in rowing, canoeing, boardsailing and yachting. In a strange case at the 1984 Los Angeles games, Russell Coutts almost missed out on the gold medal for the Finn class competition. The rules stated that sailors had to have less than 20 kilograms of gear. At the end of the races the judges were preparing to disqualify Coutts as his wet gear was just over the allowable limit. Coutts had to carefully dry out his gear and reweigh it. As it then came in just under the 20-kilogram limit he was awarded the gold medal.

One of the best New Zealand Olympic stories must be that of the unexpected victory of the 1976 men’s hockey team. After coming second in their pool, the team beat the Netherlands 2–1 in the semi-finals and came up against Australia in the final. At half-time the teams were locked at 0–0, but seven minutes into the second half captain Tony Ineson scored the only goal of the game to get New Zealand the gold medal.

Remarkably, prior to the games, the team wasn’t considered a medal prospect. Equally remarkable is the fact that five members of the team were coached by Canterbury coach Cyril Walter. But the most remarkable aspect of this story is that the New Zealand team had to desperately defend their lead in the closing minutes of the game, none more valiantly than goalie Trevor Manning, who played the last 10 minutes with a smashed kneecap.