eBook pdf for Issue 152



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



Dear Readers,

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.

Wendy Rhodes,


For just $79 you receive an annual

subscription to New Zealand Memories.

Six superb issues direct to your letterbox.

A G i f t o f D i s t i n c t i o n

Surprise a friend or relative with a gift subscription.

We will even gift wrap the first issue, include a gift

card with your personal message and post it direct.

Freephone: 0800 696 366 or

Freepost: 91641

PO Box 17288

Green Lane, Auckland 1546

Email: admin@memories.co.nz

Subscribe and Save!

Visit our website w w w.memories.co.nz for subscriptions and gift ideas.

Order online securely today and pay via internet banking or credit card.



Wendy Rhodes

Graphic Design

Icon Design


David Rhodes

Distributed by


Subscriptions & Enquiries

Phone tollfree: 0800 696 366

Mail: Freepost 91641,

PO Box 17288, Greenlane, Auckland 1546

email: admin@memories.co.nz


Annual Subscription $79 for six issues

(Price includes postage within NZ)


Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, NZ

Archives New Zealand

Te Rua Mahara O Te Kawanatanga

Auckland City Libraries

Carr, Clare

Central Hawke’s Bay Museum

Cowan, Bill

de Vries, Clark

Dougherty, Ian

Gore, Kate

Hill, David

McCarthy, Pat

Moore, Anne

Otago Girls’ High School

Owen, Alwyn

Russell Museum

Smallfield, Jane

Sneddon, M

Speden, Gordon

Stewart, Graham

Sullivan, Jim

Tait, Gordon

Tarawhiti Museum

Te Whare Taonga O Te Tairawhiti

Thompson, Robert

Toitu, Otago Settlers Museum

Trask, Peter

Tucker, Gary

Whaley, Derek. R.

Wickham, Alison


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

Mailbox 68

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.

ISSN 1173-4159

October/ November 2021

Cover image:

D. Annand Bookseller & Stationer,

Waipawa in the early 1900s..

Courtesy: Central Hawke’s Bay Museum collection.



That Radio

Alwyn Owen

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

be ‘installed’...”

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

Jane Smallfield

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

David Hill


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.”






A & A.J. Caithness 63

AICKIN Graves 13

ALISON Ewen W. 10


Anzac Day 20

Aoroa 15

Arawata Bill 39

Arawhata River 39

AraWhata Valley 43

Auckland 10, 44

Auckland Electric

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

Blackhead 28


Frank 54

Maisie 52

Michael 52

Pat 52

Bott Boot Repairer 67

boxing 72

broadcasting 4

Brothers Lighthouse 68

BUCHANAN Seaman B. 72

BURN Margaret 31

Burton Bros. 67


camping 34

Cape Kidnappers 59


William 28

Cargill's Castle 29

CAVE Charles W. 10

Central Otago 39

Cheltenham 11

Cheltenham Beach 11

Cheltenham Cash Store 15

clerical officer 44

coal 50

coal range 50

Commercial Hotel (Waipawa) 66

COWAN Agnes 41


CRAWLEY Norrie 65


DALRYMPLE Learmonth 30

dental care 1, 23

dental clinic 1, 23

Depression, The 6

Devil's Elbow 58

Devonport 8

Devonport Borough Council 14

Devonport Domain 13

Devonport Steam Ferry Co. 10

Devonprot Waterworks 14

Devonport Road Board 10

Druids 68

DUDER Robert 15

Dunedin 16, 27

Dunedin Hospital 42

Dunedin Town Board 27


EDISON Thomas 72

education 18, 30

Elsthorpe 64

Empire Hotel (Waipawa) 67

employment 44


Fairbrother & Co. 67

fashion (workplace) 47

FAZAKERLY Elizabeth 27

ferryman 39

Fiordland 40


folk hero (Arawata Bill) 42

Forbury 28

Frankton 41

Frankton Aerodrome 41

Frenchman's gold 39

Friendly Road radio 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



H.M. Trade Commission 52


HAMMOND William F. 15


HANSEN Paul 15

Hastings 59

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

hula-hoop 22

Huntly 50



jandals 21

job interview 44


Kakanui 16


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

lighthousekeepers 68

Little Sisters of the Poor 42


MacANDREW Mr. 31

MacDONALD Wesley 63

Mako shark 37

Marton 63

Masonic Hotel 11

Matamata Station 50


Methodist City Missioner 6

milk-in-schools scheme 23

MILNE Jean 66

Mitchelson Timber Co. 15



Masefield & Co. 15

Moeraki 26

Moeraki boulders 26


Mount Cook Company 41

Mrs Potts irons 50

Mt Victoria 11


Napier 60

NAPIER William 15

Napier Municipal & Fire Police

Band 63

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 16

Oamaru Mixed train 17

Okuru 41

Omakere 64

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

Huw 4

Mr 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 4

Radio 1ZB 6

Radio 2YA 7

Radio 2YC 7

radio licence fee 5

railway 16

Rangatawa 63

Red Hills Range 41

REYMAYNE Robert 27

Thomas 26


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


Settlers Hotel 66

Settlers' Arms Hotel 66

SHAW Betty 42

Elfin 42


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



Takapuna steam tramway 15


Taradale 64

Taranaki 64

Te Aute Hotel 66

telephone mechanician 63


tramcar 15

tramway 8

TRASK Eric 63

travellers cheques 52


Tuapeka goldfields 39

Tunnel Beach 28

Tutira 58

typewriter 47

typing pool 46



vaccination certificate 52

VAILE Sidney 13

Victoria Wharf 11


wages (1970s) 47

Waipawa 66

Waipawa District Council 65

Waipawa Nursing Division 66

Waipukurau District Council 65

Waipukurau Telephone

Exchange 63

Wairoa 59

Waitemata County Council 10

Wanaka 34

Wanstead 64



Waverley 68

Wellington 49

West Coast (gold) 39

West Indian Cricket Team 55

Wetherstons 39

Whangamarino School 69

Whanganui 63

Whirinaki 58

Whirinaki 63

WIGLEY Sir Henry 41

WILLIAMS William 28

workplace clothing 47




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.



Shipboard Boxing

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

is unidentified.

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).


More magazines by this user
Similar magazines