Marie Ricketts at Auckland Harbour
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 23
Dolphins Rugby League heavies, Tony Murphy, Terry Reader and Trad McLean are having drinks in Auckland’s waterfront Brit Tavern, as Marie and I watch the T20 Cricket in ‘The Shakespeare’, once famous as a journalists’ hang out, but probably not so much now, given there are very few journalists who actually work in the city. Marie and I are in New Zealand at the start of an 18-night, North Island holiday, taking in the nation’s largest city, as well as Tauranga, Gisborne, Lake Tarawera (near Rotorua), and then Waiheke Island.
Our cabbie from home at Samford was Gordon from Ferny Grove, formerly from Ingleburn in Sydney’s South West. Our flight left on time and I managed to squeeze in Academy Award winning movie, ‘Oppenheimer’. No such luck for Marie, whose headset didn’t work. Our Auckland cabbie (originally from the sub-continent) was friendly and efficient, and dropped us at Quest on Hobson in time for us to explore the Viaduct area of the harbour, via drinks at the Empire Hotel, where we just missed a pub crawl, involving blokes in sea captain’s hats, wearing a variety of tops, including one in a Warriors’ jersey. Dinner at Wight and Wong’s is excellent. We called into the Shakespeare for ‘just the one’, as Australia’s tail crashed in the T20 cricket match against New Zealand at Eden Park. I didn’t think our 174 total would be enough, but our bowlers were up to the task. When I was younger, I would have made my way down to the ‘Brit’, to join Trad and co., but now bed beckons.
Brumbies’ rugby lock, Charlie Cale looks a good athlete, and surely must come into Wallabies’ contention. Brumbies thrash the fiscally challenged Rebels 30-3 in Melbourne.
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 24
Saddest sight of the weekend is Dolphins’ forward, Tom Gilbert being assisted from the field, with what looks like an ACL injury. Marie and watch the Dolphins v Warriors match, on television, while enjoying drinks with Steve and Angela Lingard and their daughter, Lizzie at a Sports Bar, at Grafton, in Auckland. We know Steve through our eldest lad, Damien, who met Steve during his Euro travels in 2009. Steve is from St Helens in Merseyside, and is a staunch supporter of St Helens’ Rugby League Club, as well as being part-owner of St Helens’ Football (soccer) Club. He and Angela live at Warkworth, to the north of Auckland, and have made a special trip into the city to catch up with us. Angela works for the Department of Agriculture, so our chat also extends into the rural aspects of New Zealand, including problems with water pollution from dairy farms. We met-up with the Lingards at Galbraith’s Ale House in Grafton, with Steve keen to enjoy beer poured from traditional hand pumps. The Ale House is located in what used to be a library.
For Marie and I the day began with a visit to a small market at Britomart (shopping precinct), and then 10 minutes watching ‘World Manu Diving’ titles, which is essentially a back-flop, as opposed to bellyflop, competition, and is popular with Maori. Our eldest son, Damien, recalls Maori students at Beenleigh High, where he taught, executing these dives. I have done a few, but not on purpose, like these blokes. I recall my late father, Jon William Ricketts, landing on his back at ‘The Weir’ (Tweed River, Murwillumbah) after mis-timing his jump from a swing that had been put in place on a giant tree on the riverbank. It would have won him a Gold Medal here in Auckland.
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 25
Ngaruawahia, the traditional home of Maori Kings, is our first leg-stretch on our trip south from Auckland, to Tauranga. The stop brings back memories for Marie, given her boyfriend of two years (before she met me), Selwyn Henry, came from here. Marie lived in New Zealand for three years and represented Waikato in softball. There are lots of cars parked around the pub, which dates back to 1904.
Our accommodation in Tauranga (or Mount Maunganui to be precise) is different, but fine, and there are no complaints about security, given you have use a toggle for every door, or so it seems. We dine at Latitude 37 in the ‘main street’, a popular hangout with the locals, it seems. The mussels and calamari are excellent.
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 26
Cruise ship, Regatta is in Tauranga Harbour, and passengers are met by pouring rain, with very few venturing to ‘Main Street’. Marie and I walk the base track around The Mount, and watch Regatta leave the harbour, bound for Napier. There is an English bloke wearing a Queensland State of Origin jersey in Astrolabe in the ‘main street’, where we enjoy $6 beer and wine, served by a friendly barman with painted long fingernails, lipstick and pink hair in a bun.
Small item in New Zealand Herald reveals one of the country’s last surviving World War II veterans, Bill Guest, has died, aged 101. Bill served in Egypt and Italy before returning to the family farm in Northland, where he remained until he was 99. ‘The Courier-Mail’ Monday to Friday price goes from $2.80 to $3, still cheap compared with the NZ Herald, which is $4.50. Gregor Paul writes in the Herald about the disruption to the flow of the game caused by the ‘smart mouthguards’ players have to wear at the elite level of Rugby Union. Heaven help us if the mouthguards are made compulsory in rugby league, because games will be abandoned. The collision factor is much greater in league than union, and I have heard top officials say that just a good ‘hit’ is enough to rattle the brain, even if it is a legal shot.
Lots of rain in North Queensland and certain sections of the media make a big deal of it, no doubt pushing a climate change agenda. But as one historian from Tully points out, there have been 30 or so wetter Februarys recorded, since the 1920s.
TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 27
The blowhole on Moturiki Island, off Tauranga, proves a magnet for a group of youngsters, but does not prove a fatal attraction, despite the dangers. There is a real Ginger Meggs (male) among the group, and boy, he should be wearing a hat. Marie and I had walked Pilot Bay to the Hot Pools, but the ‘passive pool’ and the spa, were out of action, so we moved on. The only pool available was the ‘active pool’. Admission price remained at $17 a head. Moturiki Island has a fascinating history, having once been the location of a quarry, which provided materials for the construction of the East Coast Rail. The quarry was then converted into an aquarium, much like the old Jack Evans’ Pet Porpoise Pool at Tweed Heads. There are so many school age kids involved in activities – most, no doubt, approved and/or organised by the schools. Southwell School from Hamilton seems to be prominent. Marie and I have kebabs from ‘Turkish Go Go’, the biggest kebabs we have ever eaten.
Two drinks at Brew, where, in 2015, I enjoyed beers with mates Greg Grainger, Mark Conway and Karl Dixon from Newcastle, during our cruise around New Zealand – with our wives. Mark told the bar manager he was a publican from Australia (which is bullshit). He told other people he was a rich grazier, and I think he was also a politician. Dinner at Alpino is excellent – authentic Italian cuisine. When I get home I discover I have a piece of mushroom on my bottom lip. Probably explains the wry smile on the proprietor’s face as I paid bill. I thought it was a ‘knowing’ smile, given I ignored the tip setting on the Eftpos machine, ‘knowing’ in that, he knows Aussies don’t tip. I think those tip options are a bit rude.
WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 28
Silversea’s ‘Silver Muse’ docks in Tauranga, the sight of this majestic vessel bringing back happy memories for Marie and I, given we sailed the Mediterranean on board, back in 2017, and met many delightful people, among them Colin and Carole Dent along with Allen and Beryl Olive, both couples hailing from the UK. Police are checking vehicles in the main street, and then they move on to inspect four cabs on the rank near the Cruise terminal. The cab drivers are all Indian, just like in Australia. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I direct three cruise ship passengers to ‘Sisters’, after they ask where I got my coffee. They are Aussies, obviously desperate for a ‘real coffee’, given cruise ship baristas have no idea, not even those on up-market ships.
I enjoy a beautiful surf this morning, after Marie and I climb tiny Mt Drury. There are scores of kids learning how to surf, and it’s obvious many of them have had little or no experience in the ocean. But they’re having a go, that’s the main thing. Marie and I then climb the formidable Mount Maunganui and our legs are like jelly as we complete the challenge. Fish and chips for dinner, from the shop attached to the Mount Ocean Sports Club at Salisbury Wharf.
We watch irritating movie ‘Missing’, irritating in that the whole move is computer screen generated.
Shock news before going to bed that Queensland Rugby League stalwart, Darryl Van de Velde has died. I was only talking to him last week. Andrew Varley, one of his many good mates from England, where Darryl coached Castleford and Warrington, comments: ‘Farewell to The Frown’. I think he meant, ‘The Brow’, but it’s the thought that counts.
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