This Won’t Hurt a Bit
“The Dental Clinic was set apart in a tiny house in the school grounds and smelled strongly of antiseptic,”
writes Alison Wickham in her entertaining article on page 18. Most New Zealanders growing up in the mid
1900s will have a story to tell about the School Dental Clinic.
Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, NZ. Ref: F- 000037-1/4
The plus of being in lockdown is the lack of distractions. Not that I would like to be
isolated from society for too long, but it certainly has enabled me to prepare future
magazines well ahead of time. Thankfully, history never dates. As I pen this letter, I
am grateful to live in a country which has taken a wise approach to the pandemic,
and grateful to a people who have respected the need for these periods of temporary
No such difficulties for Alwyn Owen in 1936 when the family invested in their
new radio, a mantle set, “joining the 182,500 other New Zealanders who already
held licences”. The licence fee was twenty-five shillings, not to be sneezed at in
those depression years… and then there was installation costs. Alwyn’s familybased
stories are always a treat and his account of That Radio will prompt an enthusiastic response.
Ian Dougherty, another acclaimed writer, returns with the story of Arawata Bill. Not a fictional folklore legend,
but a real identity whose character is brought to life in Ian’s fine article with the rugged South’s gold mining
landscape as a backdrop.
I did laugh at Gordon Tait’s exacting remarks relating to his job at Wellington’s Government Print; so typical
of governmental departments in the mid twentieth century. “Bundles of letters were tied up in green tape,
but important bundles were tied in red tape.” “Stationery was closely guarded and given out sparingly”. Many
readers will be nodding their heads at this point. Another ‘who remembers’ story, and a tell-tale sign of age, is
Alison Wickham’s account of Fun and Games Between Lessons and playground memories of playing swaps, the
ball game ‘Four-square’, skipping to unforgettable rhymes - Bluebells, Cockle Shells, Eevie Ivy Over – marbles
and knucklebones. Add on your own list.
As an Aucklander, the appeal of sitting on a horse tramway rather than in a motorway queue has a romantic
appeal. The story of Devonport’s tramway is documented by Derek Whaley and takes readers back to the
nineteenth century when the traffic jams of today would have been unimaginable.
Before I sign off I would like to acknowledge a man of many talents, Max Cryer, who passed away on 26
August. We were privileged to publish his contributions, the last a Christmas-themed story in our 25th
Anniversary edition last December
May the joys of Spring not be hampered by lengthy restrictions.
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Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, NZ
Archives New Zealand
Te Rua Mahara O Te Kawanatanga
Auckland City Libraries
Central Hawke’s Bay Museum
de Vries, Clark
Otago Girls’ High School
Te Whare Taonga O Te Tairawhiti
Toitu, Otago Settlers Museum
Whaley, Derek. R.
That Radio 4
“It wasn’t until 1936 that we bought our first radio,”
writes Alwyn Owen.
The Lost Horse Tramway of Devonport 8
Contributed by Derek R. Whaley, Auckland Libraries.
Mixed Train to Oamaru, 1955 16
Bill Cowan relates a railway story from the 1950s.
Fun and Games Between Lessons 18
Alison Wickham recalls Palmerston North schooldays.
From the Regions: Otago 26
Centrefold: The Anglers’ Eldorado 36
Mako shark caught by Bob Kennett on 21 January 1961.
Arawata Bill 38
Ian Dougherty writes an account of the legendary gold prospector.
Government Service 44
Gordon Tait was a public servant in the 1970s.
The Kitchen Stove in the 1920s 50
The hub of Anne Moore’s home.
Food For Thought 51
Different era… different meaning.
From New Zealand to England by Ship, 1952 52
Pat McCarthy boarded the m.v. Rangitoto for the five-week voyage.
From the Regions: Hawke’s Bay 58
Index and Genealogy List 70
Editor’s Choice: Shipboard Boxing 72
Seaman from the HMNZS Archilles entertain the crew.
Opinions: Expressed by contributors are not
necessarily those of New Zealand Memories.
Accuracy: While every effort has been made to
present accurate information, the publishers take no
responsibility for errors or omissions.
Copyright: All material as presented in
New Zealand Memories is copyright to the publishers
or the individual contributors as credited.
October/ November 2021
D. Annand Bookseller & Stationer,
Waipawa in the early 1900s..
Courtesy: Central Hawke’s Bay Museum collection.
N.Z. Vintage Radio Society
It wasn’t until 1936 that we bought our first radio. The neighbours on one side had one, our friends the
Hirons in Second Avenue had two – one in the kitchen and one in the ‘front room’- and Bob Worner, who
lived in a beautifully-converted railway carriage next door to the Hirons, had a magnificent free-standing
one, gloriously encased and half the size of a piano, with eight valves tucked away inside it.
And we didn’t have a radio.
Dad tried to tell his two whining youngsters that we were saving every penny to get out of our rented house
and into a home of our own, that we had no spare cash for anything as frivolous as a radio. But then, in late
1935, his resolve weakened as the prospect of political and social change faced the country, and a radio became
not a luxury, but a seeming necessity. Even so, it wasn’t until February the following year that we finally joined
the 182,500 other New Zealanders who already held licences ‘to operate a radio receiving station’ and bought
a radio ourselves.
It arrived in a wooden box, snugly cushioned in pages of the Northern Advocate, and once it had been unpacked,
Huw and I demanded that it be plugged in and switched on, but Dad refused to do so. A radio wasn’t like a
toaster or an electric jug, he explained, it had to be ‘installed’, and that was quite a process, but Herbie Aldred
(who lived just a few doors away and knew a bit about radio) would help us to set it all up in the weekend. Dad
didn’t mention that the radio dealer could have set it up immediately, but that would have been an additional
cost to the twelve quid or so paid for the set, and on top of that, there was still thirty bob to be found for the
licence fee. So we’d wait, until Herbie was free the next Saturday and Dad had collected the few necessary bits
and pieces that Herbie had set down on a list for him.
N.Z. Vintage Radio Society
“A radio wasn’t like a
toaster or an electric jug,
he explained, it had to
Meanwhile the radio sat, mute and modest, on a shelf in our kitchen-cumlivingroom.
For modest it undoubtedly was – a basic five-valve mantle set made by Radio
Ltd., and in our case, distributed by Bond and Bond under their house-brand
Skyscraper. Radios were then classed as either ‘mantle’ or ‘console’, the latter
being free-standing, and oh Lord, how magnificent some of them were, with
their beautiful inlays and rich grain, polished so that you could look right down
into the soul of the wood, like the back of a fine violin. Come to that, some of
the mantle sets were not too bad either in that respect either, but not ours – ours
was a plain box, relieved only by fretwork covering the speaker grille, with a small
escutcheon on either side, the left-hand one bearing the word ‘Volume’, and its
neighbour showing in its recess what appeared to be black numerals against a
murky grey-brown background. No ’tone control’, no flash ‘airplane dial’ with
all stations identified, no ‘short wave’, and of course like all radios of its era, no
FM... But make no mistake, for all its lack of glamour it was a perfectly efficient
work-horse of a radio.
As it turned out, “installation” proved not too difficult a job. We put up the
aerial first, a horizontal wire that ran between a manuka pole at one end and
our convenient cabbage tree at the other, and electrically isolated from them by
ceramic ‘egg insulators’ that were strung in a series of three at each end of the
aerial. A vertical wire was attached near one end of the horizontal portion to form
an inverted ‘L’ (which indeed was the technical term for this type of aerial) and
this, the ‘downlead’ would ultimately be connected to the radio.
Two holes were then drilled through the wall of the house below the radio shelf,
the uppermost one providing a snug fit for the ‘lead-in tube’ – an ebonite tube
containing a threaded brass rod with a wing-nut at each end; this carried the
signal from the down-lead to the interior of the house, where the red aerial lead
dangling from the radio was attached to it. The radio’s black ‘earth’ lead was then
extended, poked through the second hole, and attached to a three-foot length of
metal pipe that Herbie had driven into the earth for nearly its full length – a good
‘earth’, he explained, was as necessary as a good aerial.
Last of all, a ceramic ‘lightning arrestor’ was screwed on to the external wall
of the house and connected between the aerial and earth. It contained nothing
more than a couple of wires with a gap between them, all sealed with pitch, the
idea being that any lightning strike on the aerial would jump the gap and dissipate
harmlessly in the earth instead of blowing the radio sky-high – without an arrestor
any insurance claim on the radio, and possibly the house, would be dismissed in
the event of a lightning strike.
So it was all done. The licence fee had been paid (it had been reduced to twentyfive
shillings since 1934 we discovered) and with our radio now installed, we all
trooped inside for the ceremonial switch-on.
One thing I remember vividly: at the moment we switched the radio on, that
murky brown tuning dial sprang into gorgeous life in a wonderful rich amber
glow that set its black numerals in high contrast. To my nine-year-old mind, that
was magic; that was the miracle, not the sound that came a couple of seconds later
as the valves warmed up. I’m convinced that that first sight of a back-lit tuning
dial was the trigger that led me to begin building my own radios within a few
years, and later, to a career in the medium.
Well, we now had our radio, but in hindsight we should have bought it three
months earlier, when we’d have been able to hear the run-up to the 1935 General
Election and the extraordinary event that occurred in Auckland preceding it, as
radio and politics became entangled.
Auckland’s favourite radio station by far was
‘Friendly Road’ 1ZB, run by Colin Scrimgeour
and Tom Garland. As previous Methodist city
missioner, ‘Scrim’ or ‘Uncle Scrim’ had well known
the misery of Auckland’s poor and unemployed, and
with his compassion, keen sense of social justice and
outstanding communication skills he’d become a
leading figure during Auckland’s Depression years.
He was also innovative, opportunistic and far from
unworldly, and in 1934 he’d bought Station 1ZB for
fifty pounds (after selling his wife’s piano to pay for it)
and the station had gone from strength to strength;
his weekly Sunday night talk, ‘The Man in the Street’
in particular had become almost obligatory listening.
Now, an election, postponed the previous year,
was looming. The reigning Coates / Forbes coalition
of the Reform and United Parties was seen by many
as uncaring and mean-spirited in its policy of tight
financial restraint, but then the contending Labour
Party… good heavens, could a gang of union rabblerousers
and ex-jail-birds be trusted to run the country?
The run-up to the poll was tense, and rumour spread
that during his ‘Man in the Street’ broadcast on the
Sunday evening before the election, Scrim would
openly solicit a Labour vote.
It seems that the then- postmaster-general Adam
Hamilton panicked, and suggested to his P and T
Department (but not in writing of course) that it
might be advisable that the broadcast not proceed.
Perhaps it could be ‘jammed’?
It was, and all hell broke loose. The Government
denied all responsibility, but evidence was quickly
found that the P and T Department had been directly
involved, though nothing could be sheeted home to
its Minister and ultimate responsibility was never
completely uncovered. In the backlash, Scrim was
permitted to re-broadcast his original script a night
later without interference, and it contained no
endorsement of the Labour Party.
But the damage had already been done, and in
Auckland at least, the incident had done nothing to
further the Coalition’s chances. The following Saturday
Labour was elected in a landslide victory.
All this we might have heard, but in putting the
clues together in later years, I realised Dad’s interest
lay not so much in the election result itself – which
he regarded as a foregone conclusion anyway – as
in the social changes Labour had promised, and
these, already hinted at, would be outlined in the
Speech from the Throne when the new Government
took office. Furthermore, the occasion would be
broadcast, and for the first time in the Western world,
parliamentary proceedings (and later, debates) would
be thrown open to all who might listen…and that was
why Dad had deferred the purchase of his radio.
Similar latecomers were offered an even cheaper
option than our little Skyscraper. In a wild burst of
enthusiasm that must surely have placed passion
above profit, one manufacturer produced a radio that
was not only named Parliamentary, but also carried a
picture of Parliament House placed persuasively above
its volume control.
But now, and scarcely four months after the Election,
everything, was ready, and on the 25th of March 1936
the four YA stations linked to broadcast the election of
the Speaker, and next day, the Speech from the Throne –
and It all went splendidly. However the Government’s
desire to ‘bring Parliament to the People’ was more
than a simple display of democratic fervour; it was
also a counter to what Labour perceived as a largely
hostile Press, and when it came to the parliamentary
debates broadcast in later months, both context and
speakers were carefully selected and speeches limited
in duration, to better present Government views.
If my father had expected the full cut-and-thrust
of political debate, unabridged and free from any
editorial filtering, he must have felt he wasn’t quite
getting his money’s worth from the radio he’d bought.
And he wasn’t the only one; a correspondent to the
Auckland Star wrote:
Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. Ref: A-312-1-191. Blomfield, William
“Auckland’s favourite radio station
by far was ‘Friendly Road’ 1ZB,
run by Colin Scrimgeour and Tom
Labour Prime Minister Michael Joseph Savage
photographed with Colin Scrimgeour in 1938.
Auckland Weekly News August 17, 1938.
…The so-called debates do not by any means represent what
takes place in Parliament “off air”…Wireless is supposed to
be for the amusement, entertainment and education of the
public. The Parliamentary debates are fraudulent; they do not
represent Parliament – they are not amusing or educational.
They are just political bluff. On both sides of the House.
But after a few years, and a renewed mandate for the
Government in 1938, things became a little more relaxed. A
new 2YA transmitter had come on stream, meaning that the
old one, now 2YC, could take over Parliamentary broadcasts
and the YA stations could resume their normal stodgy fare of
worthy evening talks and daytime doses of Gracie Fields and
Peter Dawson. The broadcasting of Parliament was becoming
just another facet of New Zealand life.
Writing to the Nelson Evening Mail in September of 1938,
one poetically-minded citizen put it this way:
Prime Minister Michael Savage and the Director of the
National Broadcasting Service, James Shelley, are depicted in
this Blomfield cartoon published in the New Zealand Observor
on 4 February 1937.The caption reads, “Castles in the Air.
The Government proposes to establish in Wellington a great
broadcasting and cultural centre - to be built from the licence
fees of listeners.
At times heated discussions stir the public interest,
They occasionally make reference to the ape,
And the public quickly visualise how far we have advanced
When listening to political debate.
The home life of New Zealand has changed beyond all dreams
The children with their elders arbitrate.
Mickey Mouse and fairy yarns are no longer bed-time talk,
Children argue on Political Debate.
Everyone has a wireless, and the girls are getting scared
Courting will be controlled by the State.
Instead of taking Emma for a cuddle and a spoon,
Bill listens to Political Debate
We have listened to dictators, prime ministers and kings,
Inspiration from their speeches we can take.
But in seeking inspiration, there are times when we perspire
When listening to Political Debate.
N.Z. Vintage Radio Society
But for good or ill Parliamentary broadcasting was now an
established fact of life that we had learned to accept, and by
1938 Dad had relaxed a little in his listening (to Mum’s relief
I suspect), and wasn’t above forsaking Parliament to follow
the fortunes of Dad and Dave. By that time too, we had just
moved into a house of our own, and of course the Skyscraper
came with us, and having once been through the drill we had
no hesitation in “installing” it ourselves, hitching our aerial
up to a convenient tree (macrocarpa, this time), connecting
our ground wire and so on. And for the next few years
that modest little radio continued to serve us faithfully and
well…until circumstances compelled us to buy something
rather more sophisticated, with six valves, and short-wave.
The world had lost its senses – again - and World War II
had erupted. n
Otago Girls’ High School – Celebrating 150 Years
Archivist, Otago Girls’ High School
First day pupils on 6 February 1871. Of note is the fence to keep boys from Otago Boys’ High School out.
On the 6 February 1871, the first state girls’ high school in the Southern Hemisphere opened in Dowling
Street (now Tennyson Street), Dunedin. Originally known as the Provincial School for Girls, it soon became
known as Otago Girls’ High School. This year the school celebrates its 150th Jubilee with the main celebration
taking place at Labour Weekend, having been postponed from Waitangi Weekend due to Covid.
The founder of the school was a remarkable woman by the name of Miss Learmonth Whyte Dalrymple who
was born in Couper Angus, Scotland. Miss Dalrymple immigrated to New Zealand with her father and siblings
in 1853, and after time spend in the Clutha area she moved to Dunedin.
When the Otago Boys High School opened in 1863, Dalrymple began to wage a persistent seven-year long
campaign for girls’ secondary education in Otago. She started by connecting with those who would help her
achieve her goal. Her first ally was the Otago Daily Times, which published a “leader” in August 1863, around
the time Boys’ High was opened, suggesting that there should be an equivalent school for girls. There was little
interest from the readership however, with only one letter of support in reply.
“Miss Dalrymple had a
dream; she was inspired
and inspired others to fight
for the right of girls and
women to be educated.”
Miss Learmonth Whyte Dalrymple
Miss Dalrymple had a battle on her hands, it was generally considered that girls were not equipped either
mentally or physically for intensive studies. The place of woman was the home, her task to care for her husband’s
physical needs, and to produce and raise a family, and what husband wanted a wife more knowledgeable than
himself? But Miss Dalrymple was not deterred and along with the support of Major John L C Richardson, a
member of the Provincial Council, a petition was circulated to get the support of the community. However, it
was not just men who thought there was no need to education girls, many women considered a public school
for girls ‘intolerable’; others said the schools were good enough already; that girls would be worse off for being
learned; and that the idea was ahead of its time. Many women felt positively scared to sign the petition.
Over the next two years Miss Dalrymple continued to write letters, collect information, and keep the matter
before the Provincial Council and the public. Miss Dalrymple also spoke to Mr Macandrew who was then the
Superintendent of the Provincial Council. So persuasive was she that Macandrew instructed the Secretary of the
Education Board to come up with a proposal which was presented to the Provincial Council in 1868. Progress
was beginning to happen.
On 9 June 1870 Mrs Margaret Burn was appointed to the role of Lady Principal of the new girls’ high school.
Born in Edinburgh, and later settling in Australia, Mrs Burn later opened a private school in Geelong and it was
her success in this work that led to her appointment at Otago Girls’.
Bob Kennett and friends with their 103lb Mako shark
on 130lb tackle. Bob caught the fish whilst aboard the
Fuller’s game fish launch Miss Helen on 21 January 1961.
Bay of Islands Swordfish Club photographer Ian Hanlon
recorded the occasion.
The Mako is weighed using an old crane that originally sat
at a private jetty and dates from the 1870s. The historic
crane now sits in the grounds of the Russell Museum
and fish are either tagged and released or weighed on a
modern automated weigh station.
Photo Ian Hanlon via Russell Museum Te Whare Taonga o Kororāreka
The Anglers’ Eldorado
Be It Ever So Humble
There’s only one, faded photo of the house where I lived till I was 15.
There’s only one because it was the years 1942 -1956. Few families had cameras then, and if they did, it was
most likely a clunky little Box Brownie, with a viewfinder you had to squint into while you manoeuvred to keep
your back to the sun.
My parents didn’t have a camera. They didn’t have much of anything. The house was a rented one, and they
were saving every shilling they could towards that golden dream: A Place Of Their Own.
It wasn’t a house worth photographing, anyway, except as a reminder of how far most of us have come. It was
leaky, pokey, dank – but the sort of place families were glad to have in those post- WWII years when homes of
any sort were in such short supply.
It’s over 60 years since I’ve been inside it, though I’ve driven past it numerous times, and watched its exterior
change from shabby to gentrified, then fade to shabby again. But I can still see most of its rooms clearly. Let me
take you on a tour.
It was on Hospital Hill in Napier, a cramped cube built in the 1910s or even earlier. It was probably a snug
little home then, but by the time we lived in it, its snugness had long gone.
Early houses on Hospital Hill were – still are – a mixture of little boxes and big boxes of weatherboard walls
and corrugated-iron roofs. Woolstore workers, wharfies, labourers lived in the little ones; lawyers and managers
of Blythes or McGruers Department Stores in the big ones.
Ours was definitely little. On one side ran a skinny lane. On the other stretched a double frontage with
jacaranda trees and flowering cherries, framing a white-and-grey villa three times the size of our place. It was
owned by a.....a lawyer.
His property included a full-sized tennis court, stretching along behind our back fence. When the first detailed
aerial photos of Napier were taken in the early 1950s, the lawyer’s son told us “Your place looks like part of
ours”. I’m sure my Mum never forgave him.
But it’s our cramped little cottage I want to tell you about. It stood only two metres from Napier Terrace. (We
lived on the side with no footpath; that seemed fitting, somehow.)
There was a sagging, bullnosed front verandah of red corrugated iron that kept the two rooms behind it
permanently dark. A front door that only strangers knocked at.
Inside, an unlit hallway with dark-brown wooden floor, and wallpaper of twining, writhing patterns in dull
green and faded yellow that I suppose were meant to be forest trees or such.
To me, they were snakes. When I was little, I hated and feared our hallway. I was sure the snakes would jerk
to life and seize me. If I had to go down it, I’d either creep along so the snakes wouldn’t hear me, or stamp and
swagger, talking loudly as if there were six of me.
“And here comes that only photo. It’s me, about eight years old,
sitting and reading on the back verandah. The bathroom window
is behind me; the laundry door gapes open.”
INDEX and GENEALOGY LIST
A & A.J. Caithness 63
AICKIN Graves 13
ALISON Ewen W. 10
ANNAND D. 3
Anzac Day 20
Arawata Bill 39
Arawhata River 39
AraWhata Valley 43
Auckland 10, 44
Tramways Co. 15
Auckland Harbour 53
aviation (Mt Cook Co.) 41
AVISON Betty 66
baggage allowance (ship) 52
baking (coal range) 50
Bay of Islands Swordfish Club 37
bibby cabin (Rangitoto) 54
BLACKMAN Chris 52
Bott Boot Repairer 67
Brothers Lighthouse 68
BUCHANAN Seaman B. 72
BURN Margaret 31
Burton Bros. 67
Cape Kidnappers 59
CARGILL John 28
Cargill's Castle 29
CAVE Charles W. 10
Central Otago 39
Cheltenham Beach 11
Cheltenham Cash Store 15
clerical officer 44
coal range 50
Commercial Hotel (Waipawa) 66
COWAN Agnes 41
CRAWFORD Mr W.F. 58
CRAWLEY Norrie 65
DALRYMPLE Learmonth 30
dental care 1, 23
dental clinic 1, 23
Depression, The 6
Devil's Elbow 58
Devonport Borough Council 14
Devonport Domain 13
Devonport Steam Ferry Co. 10
Devonprot Waterworks 14
Devonport Road Board 10
DUDER Robert 15
Dunedin 16, 27
Dunedin Hospital 42
Dunedin Town Board 27
EDISON Thomas 72
education 18, 30
Empire Hotel (Waipawa) 67
Fairbrother & Co. 67
fashion (workplace) 47
FAZAKERLY Elizabeth 27
FISHER Mrs 19
folk hero (Arawata Bill) 42
Frankton Aerodrome 41
Frenchman's gold 39
Friendly Road radio 6
GARLAND Tom 6
General Election (1935) 5
Glendhu Bay 34
GLOVER Denis 42
GODBER Albert 26
gold mining 39
gold prospecting 40
government attire 47
Government Print 44
government service 44
government stationery 47
grading system (govt) 49
GREANEY Don 42
H.M. Trade Commission 52
HAMILTON Adam 6
HAMMOND William F. 15
HANLON Ian 37
HANSEN Paul 15
Hastings Post Office 65
Hastings Telephone Exchange 63
Havelock North 64
Hawera Telephone Exchange 63
Hawke's Bay 59
Hawke's Bay Earthquake 63
Health Camps 23
Hillside Workshops 16
HIRON Family 4
holidays (camping) 34
horse tramway 8
Hospital Hill 60
job interview 44
KENNETT Bob 37
King Country 63
kitchen stove 50
KNOX James 9
Labour Party 6
Lake Pupuke 10
Lake Takapuna tramway 9
Lake Wakatipu 42
Lake Wanaka 34
Lake Wilmot 40
laundry (1950s) 62
Levin Telephone Exchange 63
Little Sisters of the Poor 42
MacANDREW Mr. 31
MacDONALD Wesley 63
Mako shark 37
Masonic Hotel 11
Matamata Station 50
MEGENISS Bill 68
Methodist City Missioner 6
milk-in-schools scheme 23
MILNE Jean 66
Mitchelson Timber Co. 15
INDEX and GENEALOGY LIST
Masefield & Co. 15
Moeraki boulders 26
MORONEY D. 66
Mount Cook Company 41
Mrs Potts irons 50
Mt Victoria 11
NAPIER William 15
Napier Municipal & Fire Police
Napier Terrace 62
Narrow Neck Beach 11
Newmarket Fire Brigade 14
NZ Alpine Club 39
NZ Dairy Co. mine 50
NZ Shipping Co. Ltd 52
O'LEARY William 39
Oamaru Mixed train 17
Onehunga PABX 64
Otago 16, 26
Otago Boys' High School 30
Otago Girls' High School 30
Otago Provincial Council 31
Otaki Health Camp 23
overseas travel 52
OWEN Alwyn 4
packed lunch (school) 23
paddle steamer 26
Palmerston North 18
Patangata 64, 66
Patangata Bridge 65
Patangata County 65
pay clerks 46
PELLOW William 66
PENNELL Kevin 68
Post & Telegraph Dept. 63
PRICE Wiiliam Archer 13
Primary School (1950s) 18
printing (government) 44
Provincial School for Girls 30
public servant 44
Public Service Gazette 49
Radio 1ZB 6
Radio 2YA 7
Radio 2YC 7
radio licence fee 5
Red Hills Range 41
REYMAYNE Robert 27
RICHARDSON John 31
roading (Devil's Elbow) 58
Roslyn Primary School 18
Royal NZ Navy 72
ruby mine 40
RUSSELL Edward 15
Saint Clair 29
SAVAGE Michael John 6
school clothes 22
school dental clinic 1, 23
school dental nurse 24
school games 19
school lessons 18
SCRIMGEOUR Colin 6
Settlers Hotel 66
Settlers' Arms Hotel 66
SHAW Betty 42
SHELLEY James 7
shipboard recreation 54
shipping HMNZS Achilles 72
m.v. Rangitoto 52
Prince Albert 26
Miss Helen 37
skipping games 22
smallpox vaccination 52
SPITTLE Dusty 42
St John Ambulance Brigade 66
steam locomotive 16
SULLIVAN Fleur 27
Takapuna steam tramway 15
TANNERHILL Mrs 66
Te Aute Hotel 66
telephone mechanician 63
THOMPSON Bill 43
TRASK Eric 63
travellers cheques 52
TRICKER Gary 43
Tuapeka goldfields 39
Tunnel Beach 28
typing pool 46
vaccination certificate 52
VAILE Sidney 13
Victoria Wharf 11
wages (1970s) 47
Waipawa District Council 65
Waipawa Nursing Division 66
Waipukurau District Council 65
Waitemata County Council 10
WATERWORTH Dr. 62
WATSON Tim 68
West Coast (gold) 39
West Indian Cricket Team 55
Whangamarino School 69
WIGLEY Sir Henry 41
WILLIAMS William 28
workplace clothing 47
WORNER Bob 4
YOUNG Harry 43
Each issue of New Zealand
Memories contains an index
and, in keeping with genealogy
ideals, all surnames of
individuals are listed in capitals.
Seamen from the HMNZS Achilles entertain the crew with a shipboard
bout of boxing in October 1945. A makeshift ring was constructed on deck;
Seaman B. Buchanan is the boxer with his back to the camera. His opponent
The Royal New Zealand Navy light cruiser docked at Tokyo Bay on 6 October
after the surrender of Japan (15 August 1945) and the end of a long war. The
Achilles will always be remembered for its part in the Battle of the River Plate
fought on 13 December 1939.
Seaman Buchanan, who supplied these photographs and the handwritten
caption, is seen on Auckland’s Queen Street in 1944. (He is the seaman on the
left of the photograph).