The Jacaranda House, page 39
A very abrupt change of topic: chimpanzee tea parties at Auckland Zoo. These were introduced in 1956 when chimpanzees Bobbie, Janie, Josie and Minnie were imported from London Zoo (three other chimps, Yoka, Molly and Breena, went to Wellington Zoo), where they’d been trained in the art of tea parties. Four more chimps arrived at Auckland in 1959, named Nick, Sissy, Charlie and Little Jane. Sadly for the Auckland zoo-going public, but happily for the chimps, the tea parties were stopped in May 1964 due to concerns for the chimps’ welfare – plus changes to British legislation and the blocking of an import permit for more chimps by the New Zealand Customs Department. But I had to put a tea party in this story anyway, even though Gina and Polly go to the zoo in June. Call me insensitive but I recall seeing a chimps’ tea party when I was little and thinking it was the funniest thing ever, but you don’t really think about the psychological trauma that sort of thing might cause for the participants when you’re four.
None of Auckland’s tea party chimps could be integrated into the zoo’s more natural ‘wild’ chimpanzee group, but they remained living at the zoo. They were anti-social, in chimpanzee terms, and preferred human handlers to ‘non-tea party’ chimps. Nick the chimp died in 1961, followed by Minnie in 1964, Charlie in 1971, Sissy in 1980, Little Jane in 1987, and Josie in 1999. Considered ‘genetically valuable’, Bobbie became a sperm donor at the age of forty-six in 2000, and died in 2004. Janie, the last surviving tea party chimp, was euthanised at the age of sixty in 2013 due to poor health. She had Type 2 diabetes and asthma. After Bobbie died Janie preferred her own company and had her own books and toys, and TV documentaries she liked to watch. Her favourite drinks were apple and blackcurrant juice, herbal tea and hot chocolate.
The Beatles’ 1964 tour of Australia and New Zealand was by all accounts an absolute sensation, if played in a slightly strange order. It was part of a world tour, which wasn’t really a world tour as it only took in Denmark, the Netherlands, Sweden, Hong Kong, Australia and New Zealand, but no doubt it was still exhausting for the Fab Four.
In Australia they played 12 and 13 June in Adelaide, then 15–17 June in Melbourne, followed by 18–20 June in Sydney. Then they hopped the Tasman by TEAL Electra and landed in Wellington on 21 June and played concerts there on the following two nights. Up to Auckland after that on 24 and 25 June, then down to Christchurch for a final night on 27 June. Then back to Australia the following day to play in Brisbane on 29 and 30 June, then presumably they had a break because their next appearance wasn’t until 12 July in Brighton, England. Ringo fans in Adelaide would have been disappointed as he was hospitalised in England with tonsillitis during the tour and drummer Jimmie Nicol was hired to fill in for him during the 12 and 13 June shows, after which Ringo re-joined the band in Melbourne.
In New Zealand, as in Australia, the lads were met by hordes of fans wherever they went. It’s said that seven thousand fans met them at Wellington airport, where they were presented with enormous hei tiki (as in well over a foot long) by a Maori concert party, which they dutifully hung around their necks. Traffic was stopped as Beatlemaniacs blocked streets hoping to catch a glimpse of their idols on hotel balconies, and concert venues everywhere were swamped. In Auckland, the mayor, Sir Dove-Myer Robinson, held a civic reception at the Town Hall for the band, and another seven thousand fans stormed that. Apparently, during the Beatles’ actual concerts, barely a word of their songs could be heard due to the audiences’ shrieking. But then, they were only on stage for about half an hour. If you’re interested, a good account of the Beatles’ tour is Eight Days a Week: the Beatles Tour of New Zealand 1964, by Graham Hutchins.
I have to admit I’ve never really been a major Beatles fan. I didn’t go to any of the concerts, but I was only five at the time. I do remember a Sunday drive with my parents when the Rolling Stones song ‘The Last Time’ came on the radio. That was released in 1965 so I must have been about six. I thought, This sounds pretty good. My father said something like, ‘Longhaired louts – they won’t go far.’ But they did, Dad! And then Led Zeppelin came along and my musical fate was sealed.
A few words about trans-Tasman air travel in the 1960s. New Zealand’s ‘international’ airline in 1964 was TEAL, i.e. Tasman Empire Airways Ltd. This was established in 1939 by the New Zealand, Australian and UK governments to provide a trans-Tasman air link using flying boats, which also flew the famous ‘Coral Route’ from Auckland to Tahiti, Fiji, Samoa, and Rarotonga. In New Zealand, flying boats landed in Mechanics Bay, and in Sydney at Rose Bay. In 1954 land planes – the Douglas DC6 – were introduced to the Auckland–Sydney service, using Auckland’s Whenuapai airbase (originally built for military planes) and Kingsford Smith airport (AKA Sydney airport, or Mascot airport) in Sydney. New Zealand took over full ownership of TEAL in 1961. In 1965 the name was changed to Air New Zealand, and the following year the new international airport at Mangere was officially opened. New Zealand’s domestic air carrier, NAC (National Airways Corporation), was amalgamated with Air New Zealand in 1978.
Air travel in the early days was as glamorous as hell. People really did dress up to fly; the hostesses were model-material and super trendy – as cabin crew still are now, of course; the food was almost cordon bleu standard, especially in first class; Crown Lynn made the dinnerware; you could actually get comfortable in the seats; the free drinks flowed like, well, wine; and every traveller received a comfort package on boarding. On the downside, smoking was allowed and you and your kids would disembark at your destination smoke-cured, oxygen-deprived and tinted yellow. Smoking was banned on New Zealand’s domestic flights in 1988 but not on international flights until 1997. Travel time was longer in the older planes than it is now, but admittedly much shorter than going by ship, and the price of the actual airfare was astronomical. I couldn’t find specific prices for 1964, but a trans-Tasman ticket in 1940 cost thirty New Zealand pounds, which, then, was about an average month’s pay. If you were forking out New Zealand’s average monthly salary for an air ticket now, you’d be paying a bit less than $9000. I’ll never complain about the cost of airfares again. And just in case you’re wondering: New Zealanders didn’t need a passport to enter Australia until 1 July 1981.
Another abrupt change of topic. I suppose this book is really about domestic violence. It wasn’t going to be, but that’s how it’s turned out. I don’t have to write a paragraph to explain what it is: you all know it can be physical, emotional, sexual, spiritual, psychological and/or financial. I’m also sure you all know that if you’re experiencing domestic violence, you need to ask for help. And if you have kids, remember that children who are abused don’t grow up hating their parents – they grow up hating themselves.
Acknowledgements
As usual I had a lot of help writing this book, much of it this time in the form of patience from my publisher, HarperCollins Australia. Due to unforeseen family commitments I was late delivering the manuscript, but schedules were shuffled and we got round that, to my relief and gratitude. HarperCollins New Zealand were also very understanding when I said I wasn’t available for publicity work in 2019 – thanks, guys.
Thank you to Anna Valdinger and Scott Forbes, my editors at HarperCollins Australia, for advice, guidance and encouragement, and to editor Kate O’Donnell for her endless enthusiasm and wise insights.
Another big thanks goes to Clare Forster, my agent at Curtis Brown, Australia, for smoothly keeping everything ticking over behind the scenes while I get to concentrate on doing the good bit, which is the writing.
I also need to thank two lovely people I met in Sydney a couple of years ago, on a day I set out along Oxford Street with the express purpose of finding some transgender persons, which I did, in the Stonewall Hotel. They were well over six feet tall in their wigs and high heels, and one was wearing a silver-grey body-con minidress while the other had on capri pants and a boob tube. Both had handbags nicer than mine. I asked if I could interview them for this book. Yes, I could, but not in the pub. So we went back to my hotel opposite Hyde Park and, ignoring the concierge’s disapproving look, we hopped in the lift. Stuff him, my room wasn’t cheap and I felt entitled to do what I liked in it.
What we did, those two ladies and I, was drink tea and eat room service chips for nearly three hours while I listened to them talk about what it is to be transgender. They told me the good and the really awful bits, and they told me the funny and the sad bits. They told me who they’d been, who they were at the time we were talking, and who they hoped to be in future. They were incredibly generous with their time and with their experiences, and I sincerely thank them for sharing their lives with me and providing the blueprints for Rhoda and Star. You know who you are, girls – thank you.
Thank you very much also to my family – my stepkids and my lovely husband, Aaron – who tolerated my somewhat brittle mood as I hastily wrote (but still carefully crafted!) this book in the space of about four months, having had my writing schedule grievously foreshortened by the abovementioned family commitments. And thanks to my sister, Anne Challinor, who carried a lot of the family burden while I was crouched over my keyboard. But we made it in the end. Family are good like that.
Glossary
Many Maori words have more than one meaning. Here, I’ve only included the meaning relevant to the context in which I’ve used a particular word. You’ll see I’ve added the appropriate macrons. These are the dashes over vowels that tell you a vowel is pronounced long, rather than short:
e hine
girl
hāngī
traditional Maori method of steaming food in the ground
hapū
a subtribe of an iwi (tribe)
hāpuka
name of a fish (groper/grouper)
hei tiki
correct name of a tiki, carved figure of the (usually female human form
hui
a gathering of people
kina
sea urchin
kōura
salt-water crayfish/rock lobster
mate pōrangi
mentally ill
mokopuna
or moko, a grandchild
Ngāpuhi
people of an iwi (tribe) who live in Northland, New Zealand
pipi
name of a shellfish
ponga
native New Zealand fern with a tight, curled frond
taihoa
wait, or hang on a minute
tangi
short for tangihanga, funeral
tarakihi
name of a fish
taringa
ear
tikanga
the correct protocol
toi whenua
birthplace, home
whānau
family
whāngai
to foster a child
Kia ora, kei te pēhea koe?
Hi, how are you?
Kei te pai.
I’m good.
Where to Go for Help
New Zealand
Shine
www.2shine.org.nz/get-help/helpline
Helpline: 0508 744 633, 9am to 11pm, 7 days a week
A free and confidential service for anyone being physically or emotionally abused by a family member, or anyone who is worried about a family member, a child or a friend, regardless of age, culture, gender or personal situation.
Women’s Refuge
www.womensrefuge.org.nz
Crisisline: 0800 REFUGE or 0800 733 843
New Zealand’s largest nationwide organisation that supports and helps women and children experiencing family violence. Provides a 24-hour phone line, information and safe housing for women, young people and children in crisis.
New Zealand Police
www.police.govt.nz/advice/family-violence/help
Phone 111 for emergencies.
The website provides advice on help for family violence; details about the Family Violence Information Disclosure Scheme, Protection Orders and Police Safety Orders; and information about other resources and support.
Ministry of Justice
www.justice.govt.nz/family/family-violence/
Information about family violence from the perspective of the Family Court. Advice about staying safe from family violence; how to apply for a Protection Order; conditions of a Protection Order; what is a Police Safety Order; and how to cover your tracks online.
Australia
NATIONAL
National Sexual Assault, Domestic Family Violence Counselling Service
1800 RESPECT (1800 737 732)
www.1800respect.org.au
A free and confidential telephone and online service for any Australian who is experiencing or has experienced domestic or family violence and/or sexual assault.
Women’s Legal Services Australia
www.wlsa.org.au
A national network of community legal centres that specialise in women’s legal issues.
The Men’s Referral Service
1300 766 491
mrs.org.au
Provides anonymous and confidential telephone counselling, information and referrals to men to help them to stop using violent and controlling behaviour.
AUSTRALIAN CAPITAL TERRITORY
Domestic Violence Crisis Service ACT
02 6280 0900
www.dvcs.org.au
NEW SOUTH WALES
Domestic Violence Line
1800 656 463
www.domesticviolence.nsw.gov.au
NORTHERN TERRITORY
Dawn House
08 8945 1388
www.dawnhouse.org.au
QUEENSLAND
DV Connect Women’s line
1800 811 811
www.dvconnect.org/womensline
SOUTH AUSTRALIA
Domestic Violence and Aboriginal Family Violence Gateway Service
1800 800 098
www.gatewayservices.org.au
WESTERN AUSTRALIA
Women’s Domestic Violence Helpline
08 9223 1188 or 1800 007 339
TASMANIA
Family Violence Response and Referral line
1800 633 937
www.safeathome.tas.gov.au/services
VICTORIA
Safe Steps Family Violence Response Centre
1800 015 188
www.safesteps.org.au
An Excerpt from Sisters of Mercy
Chapter One
Late April 1969, Malacca, Malaysia
Sam Apanui sat back in the NCO Club at Terendak Garrison and lit a cigarette. It had been a long, hard day, and it was still hot, but he’d had a shower and a feed, and he’d just opened a Tiger beer, so everything was all right. Well, most things were.
He eyed his cousin and best mate, Eddie Irwin, and said, ‘Bloody GI Joe was on with his John Wayne bullshit again today.’
Eddie laughed, and when Eddie laughed, Sam always felt better. His cousin wasn’t the most handsome bloke, but he had the sort of face and personality that made you feel like no matter what went wrong, with him you’d be okay. Always welcoming, always happy to see you. Sam’s father, Joshua, and Eddie’s mum – Sam’s Auntie Wiki – were brother and sister, and Sam and Eddie had been mates since they were little kids in the Hawke’s Bay, and it had stayed that way when their families had moved to Auckland in the 50s. They’d always done everything together.
‘What was he saying this time?’ Eddie asked.
Sam rolled his eyes. ‘Some shit about how he’s going to take some ears.’ He made air quote marks. ‘Like the grunts do. Reckons he’s going to wear them like a necklace. A trophy, sort of thing.’
‘Ears, like proper ears off someone’s head?’
Sam nodded.
‘Sounds a bit smelly,’ Eddie said, lighting a smoke. ‘I never saw any grunts doing that. I think he’s been reading too many Commando comics. I reckon it’s time you had a word with the captain.’
‘He knows, and so does Lieutenant Wilton, and the sarge. I still think it’s not too late to leave GI Joe off the bus.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m glad he’s in your rifle section and not mine,’ Eddie said.
Sam made a face and took a sip of his beer. GI Joe, whose real name was Kevin Allsop, was a worry. And an idiot. Apparently he’d signed up with the specific aim of going to Vietnam, or ‘Up Top’, to ‘kill gooks’, and as far as Sam and Eddie were concerned he was the worst sort of tourist, not a professional soldier at all.
He and Eddie had joined the army five years back when they were eighteen, had been on operations in Borneo, and had each already done a tour of duty in Vietnam with Victor 1 Company in 1967, and were ‘old hands’. Professional hands. Back home at Burnham Camp in New Zealand, they’d volunteered for a second tour, then realised it would probably be with Victor 4 (though it wasn’t then called that yet), which would consist mainly of new recruits and hardly any seasoned soldiers. They’d looked at each other and said ‘Oh, shit.’ But while some of those new recruits had come through the National Service Training Scheme then joined the Regular Force, and others via the Regular Force Cadet School at Waiouru, and some had just walked off the street and joined up, they’d all done the eight weeks’ basic training followed by another eight weeks of corps training. They’d then undergone an extended six months of training, including a trip to Enoggera Military Camp in Brisbane, when it was decided a further infantry company would definitely replace Victor 3 Company in Vietnam. And almost all the recruits wanted to go Up Top: there were no conscripts in the New Zealand army. Some wanted to help stem the tide of Communism they believed was about to flood southwards; some had chosen to be career soldiers; and a few had been told by magistrates to choose between the army and gaol.
