AROHANUI KI TE TANGATA 10 SEPTEMBER 1960

The challenge on the Marae: The Right Hon, the Prime Minister, Mr Walter Nash, and Sir Eruera Tirikatene. Below: A portion of the huge crowd, said to be at one stage, over 10,000 in number. (The photographs on this page were taken for Te Ao Hou by John Ashton: the decorative pieces showing Tukutuku and carving are by National Publicity Studios).

The Rt. Rev. W. N. Panapu, Bishop of Aotearoa, approaching the meeting house, preceded by the Rev. Canon Hohepa Taepa. Below: The Rev. Kingi thaka, addressing the crowd from the porch of the meeting house.

So pleasantly resonant, so courteous, so quiet was the voice from the loudspeakers, that it created at once an atmosphere of dignity. “Would people who have parked their cars opposite the entrance be good enough to ….”

Listening to this voice was a pleasure in spite of the fact that it warned us of another hour's wait in the wet and the piercing cold.

Gradually the rain eased off as the daylight grew less grey.

At last an elderly Maori woman stepped from the porch and walking back and forth on the marae, called in a high wailing monotone, a message of welcome. In the silence an answering call came back from the direction of the great marquees where the Waikato elders had been waiting patiently for the summons.

And soon they came in slow procession towards the marae. No precious Maori cloaks now, the rain would have spoiled them. But solemnly and reverently they came, following behind their leader Tumate Tonga Mahuta. cousin to King Koroki, chosen to lift the tapu, up the path towards the Meeting House, where on the edge of the porch and in the shadow of the watching Maui, Ihaia Puketapu awaited them.

The ceremony was soon ended, the doors of the house were opened and the tapu was lifted.

At last the sun shone. Now the official parties arrived: the Prime Minister, Mr Walter Nash, and his Minister of Forests, Sir Eruera Tirikatene, diplomats, mayors, councillors and all. A traditional challenge, admirably done; hakas and poi dances on the marae, and the distinguished visitors were conducted by Ihaia Puketapu's youngest daughter (deemed suitable for the honour of being the first woman to enter the meeting house) through the door.

Now came the speeches from Maori and Pakeha leaders. The Prime Minister, the Bishop of Aotearoa, Sir Eruera Tirikatene and many others spoke. Ihaia Puketapu, the man whose vision and faith were today realised and justified, spoke to his people and to all those of both races who had helped to make it a reality.

One visiting chief electrified the ten thousand strong audience when, brushing aside the microphone placed ready for him on the porch, he

strode down on to the marae so that, he said, he could look the Prime Minister in the face. There, using his walking stick like a taiaha of old, he gestured, postured, strode up and down, and used all the tricks of old-time Maori oratory to cast a spell on his audience. And they cheered and laughed and clapped their appreciation when he had ended.

But behind the scenes? The five thousand had to be fed. “Oh” said Mrs Dingwall afterwards, (she had given her services to take charge of the catering) “really there was nothing to it. You see, I had such a grand band of Maori women helping me as a Committee. There were hundreds of other voluntary helpers too including students and nurses from the Hutt Hospital.”

Yet, to feed several meals to five thousand people must have had “something to it,” however good the team. Add to the enormous size of the gathering—4000 Maori visitors alone—the fact that at two o'clock in the morning food servers reported that nothing more could be served because of the quagmire in the marquees; that meanwhile busloads of new arrivals continued to pour in from all over the country, all expecting food, until four o'clock in the morning—and some idea of the difficulties will be realised.

But even in these formidable circumstances, Maori calmness and cheerfulness prevailed. Willing hands (Pakeha and Maori) set to work to dig drains round the tents, to lay boards over the mud, and soon the tables were again loaded with food.

And what quantities! Mrs Dingwall did the ordering on the principle of multiplying what five people would require by 1,000. Three tons of potatoes—two tons for the Saturday midday meal alone—seven hundred and fifty pounds of curried sausages for breakfast, with nearly two hundred sacks of mussels. Thousands of pauas (kept in deep freeze for three weeks), 2000 fowls, 184 puddings (each enough for 30 people), 75 sheep, 40 pigs, 2 bullocks, 120 of the fowls,—these for Saturday midday dinner to which 5000 sat down in four shifts. Twenty sheep for curried mutton; hundreds of schnapper, dozens of eels, smoked and served in small pieces as befitted such a delicacy …. the list went on and on. Wainuiomata had provided the eels. A week-end eeling party went there when the moon was right for the eels to come to the surface.

Much of this vast quantity of food had been given by large firms, such as the Gear Meat Company and Griffin's the biscuit makers. Local butchers had provided at least two sheep each, one giving six and another ten. The National Dairy Company lent for several weeks the vital deep freeze.

It was an example, in fact, of willing and abundant co-operation such as is rarely seen.

For weeks young Maori divers had been at work collecting sea foods. Kara Puketapu, Maori Welfare Officer and eldest son of Ihaia, was in charge and for half a dozen week-ends he and his launch party might have been seen off Pencarrow, or Titahi Bay or around Somes Island, while divers with underwater breathing apparatus searched for the delicious sea-eggs, mussels, pauas, and other delicacies.

The weather had no mercy on them. Almost unfailingly it was rough and although the boys went down deep,—25 to 30 feet,—it was too dangerous to harvest many sea eggs. The greater part of those consumed at the feast were brought by the Otaki people who could get them at shallower depths.

Besides, Ihaia Puketapu was determined that no needless tragedy should spoil the joy of the great opening day, and often he restrained the young divers from going out.

Many, as they now entered the meeting house to inspect its glories, stopped to look in amazement at the carvings, the work of Hone Te Kauru Taiapa and his expert assistants, for these are carrvings which may well take their place among the noblest that Maori art has ever produced.

To all Maoris these carvings have a peculiar and spiritual significance. To some, as to some Pakehas, they have also a profound artistic significance. The appeal of Maori sculptural art does not always reach easily those of the Western cultural tradition, but when it does, it strikes with tremendous impact. Only recently an Italian art specialist made this same discovery. At first glance he had found little, but when he went home, after studying Maori carving for some months, he was in raptures about it.

The tukutuku panels of woven flax, which hang on the walls, also are traditional. Made by women from many parts of the country, they are perfect examples of this ancient craft. Months of devoted labour, under the guidance of Mrs Roa Wharepouri (step-daughter of Sir Apirana Ngata) went into their making.

But, by comparison, there is something greater about the carving. which lifts it out of the realm of craftsmanship to that of creative art.

Not many of those who had had the smooth running of this great occasion in their hands had had a wink of sleep on that rainy night before the celebrations. The Rev. Ihaka, chief organiser of the gathering and the ceremonies, gave no hint of weariness in his beautiful use of the mecrophone or in his arduous duties during the day. And Mr Ihaia Puketapu? He also showed no signs of the ordeal. But if he slept that night, when the day's celebrations were over, he may have re-dreamt his dream of sixty years ago, when tutored by the prophet Te Whiti, he had longed for “peace on earth and goodwill towards all men” and for a building which would symbolise this wish.

Now, at least, the building was there, a building worthy of his wish.