KIWI WINS ITS WINGS

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 894, 11 February 1930, Page 8

KIWI WINS ITS WINGS

NEW ZEALANDERS LAUD CHICHESTER SYDNEY MAORIS AND PAKEHAS ( Written for THE SUN) SYDNEY, February 7. The Xew Zealand colony’s official welcome to Mr. F. C. Chichester, the airman, was probably the largest gathering- of Maorilanders held in Sydney for many years. At least 600 were present, and all entered into the spirit of a memorable Savage Club evening with a spontaneity, alas, often absent, from meetings of Xew Zealanders in this city. Perhaps it was the presence of the Maoris in the haka party. There were five present, Wiremii Rargi, the leader, had a brother Xgati-Parou with him. VYaaka, a towering Ngati-Pukeko from the Whakatane district, and composer of the special Poh.iri in honour of the airman, was accompanied by two athletic-looking young Xgati-Ruaka-was from Otaki.- I was not aware that there were as many Maoris working in Sydney. .A century ago it might have been different. Many then came- across the Tasman in whalers from different parts of Xew Zealand. Several made their homes here. . . . I do not think there was a Xew Zealander in Sargeant’s cafe who did not experience a shooting pang of homesickness when the toas commenced tiie initial chant: “Ringa pakia waewae takahia kia rite, . . . RiLga torono kei waho mautonu!” An alien language in a foreign land. These young Maoris with the moko of their roving ancestors marked in charcoal on their faces had, for the first time in a strange country, encountered the colour bar. To the Australians present they were coloured people. Interesting perhaps, but col-

oured for all that. Never will they understand the New Zealander’s understanding of the Maori race. After all, one could hardly expect them to. They have made no attempt to glimpse the soul of their own aborigines. HUGH WARD’S MERE

The mere handled so deftly by Wiremu Rangi belonged to Hugh Ward, former theatrical manager, and nowreal estate magnate. He sat beside his former partner, Sir Benjamin Fuller, all differences apparently forgotten. The mere had been given to Air. Ward in recognition of his charitable work in Xew Zealand.

Following his investiture by the ariki (Mr. H. Li. S. Havyatt) as rangitira of the Tfirini hapu, Mr. Chichester sat wrapped in a korowai, a slim, serious, bespectacled young man, perspiring freely—the heat was abnormal that night even for Sydney—and looking thoroughly uncomfortable. The hapu gave him the name of Kiwi—the birdman who had found his wings. Poor Kiwi. I think he would have given something to have been aloft in ’To lka-a-Maui,” as his machine will in future be known.

When Mr. Chichester first arrived in Sydney I asked him whether his plane had a name, and if he carried a mascot. It once had a name, he replied, but. he had painted it out. He would not say what it was. No, there had been no mascot.

But when Waaka, in the picturesque language of his poetical people, specially asked that the machine should in future be known as “the fish of the god Maui,” the airman gallantly accepted the compliment. “You have typified the prowess of our ancestors.” Mr. Chichester was told. “You have brought honour and glory to the country you so worthily represent. It is the wish of your fellow New Zealanders that your airplane should bear this name in honour of your Maori people.’* One felt even more sorry for the airman when, late in the evening, he w r as called upon to reply. I have seldom seen a man more- ill at ease. It was most evident that Chichester abominated hero-worship. What another man might have gloried in was obviously distasteful to the young Englishman. There were frequent pauses in his speech. Long hideous silences, when one felt that one wanted to yell. Constant proddings, too, from the ariki. “SPEAK FROM YOUR HEART!” “Speak from your heartT Never mind what you say,” shouted Alfred Hill, the New Zealand composer, by whom I was seated at the moment. Chichester was like a man dazeef— he did not .seem to have heard the musician. . . . No. an airplane service across the Tasman was out of the question yet. A long way off. Yet a threeweekly service, in relays, between Sydney and London, was another matter. Mr. Chichester went on to talk of the* success of the Dutch in the East Indie* with their airplane service to Holland, and then rather abruptly, before suddenly resuming his seat, said: “Really, you have all been most kind. Thank you so much.” The airman found relief in the rousing chorus, familiar to every “Savage”:— “Tend tp tangaata parawatu Tenei te tangaata parawatu Tenei te tangaata parawatu . . . .” and then a mighty “Kiana matau katoa!” I have seldom seen the Premier (Mr. Bavin) in a more facetious mood. As an after-dinner speaker he can hardly be termed a success. Yet tl#*re was something in the New* Zealand atmosphere that took him completely out of himself, so to speak, and was responsible for: “I am sorry that I cannot address you in Maori. Unfortunately I left New Zealand at such an early age that I was unable to learn that beautiful tongue. I shall have to speak, perforce, in the inferior language of the people of this place!’* FACETIOUS MR. BAVIN

New Zealand was in much the same position, ho said, as was Scotland to England. This statement was received in silence.

“But Australians are beginning to realise that New Zealanders are commencing to run the show here!” declared Mr. Premier, amid thunderous applause. “Soon you will find Australians inventing those malicious stories about New Zealanders that Englishmen tell of Scotsmen!”

Speaking more seriously, however. Mr. Bavin said that this unassuming and modestly planned flight, devoid of flag-waving and minus the glare of publicity, had placed the name of Chichester high on the distinguished roll of famous pioneer airmen. The State Governor (Sir Dudley de Chair) telegraphed his congratulations from Tasmania. Cablegrams were also read from the New Zealand Prime Minister (Sir Joseph Ward) and the president of the Wellington Savage Club (Mr. W. Perry). For the rest of the evening the aviator. still with his korowai over his djnner jacket, wandered among the New Zealanders. He left the entrance of the meeting house, where he had sat with a carved slab of totaru An front of him —I fancy it came from the New Zealand Government Agent’s Office in Martin Place—and what was described as the leg-bone of a missionary. at his right. That peculiar ache : known only to the Prince of Wales ! and other distinguished signers cj ! autographs must have assailed him as ho wrote on vrhat was possibly the 600th programme. AMONG THE GUESTS The Premier was accompanied bv ; the Attorney-General (Mr. Boyce. 1 K.C.). The Chief City Commissioner (Mr. Garliek) was present, also the president of the Aero Club (Captain j Hughes). Mr. C. M. Rich-White

brought greetings from the Auckland Aero Club. The Government Agent (Mr. Blow) and the chairman of the New Zealand Association (Dr. Purdy) were deep in conversation during supper. A. Morgan, of. the New Zealand Press Association. Hugo Freeth, day sub-editor of the “Sydney Morning Herald,” and Noel Cook. “Sun” caricaturist, and former Aucklander, and Hector MacQuarrie. of “The Mail,” were among the comparatively few representatives of the many New Zealand pressmen in Sydney. W. A. Bowring, R. 0.1., as immaculate as ever, sat opposite St. John Smith. Melbourne Ward, free from zoological cares, looked in for a while. O. Rov Stanley, George Winder and R. F. Chapman were among the most indefatigable of the hosts. And Basil Dean, another ex-Auck-lander, was easily the most popular figure with his monologues on a programme that included several Xew Zealanders in the Eskrigge brothers. J- W. Atkinson. H. R. Ferguson, R. Gilbert, Lance Fairfax and G. Taylor. ERIC RAMSDEN-