
New Zealand Wars: Unmarked grave of NZ Cross winner Captain Angus Smith in Ōpōtiki prompts call for memorial
These medals went to Māori and Pākehā who served in the New Zealand colonial forces during the New Zealand Wars, making the award one of the rarest military honours in the world.
Captain Smith's medal is on display in the National Museum of Scotland.
Nicol has lobbied for many years to have the names of war heroes from the East Coast etched on to war memorials and gravestones, his efforts gaining recognition for servicemen from World Wars I and II, Vietnam and Malaysia.
'To me, it is unacceptable that Smith, the first from this area to win the country's highest major military award at the time, does not have a marker on his grave,' he said.
'We have produced more war heroes from this part of the North Island than any other place in New Zealand – including Victoria Cross, George Cross and Distinguished Service Decoration winners.
'We should look after every one of them.'
A Taranaki Herald description of Angus Smith said he was 'the beau ideal of an old cavalry officer, and personally was a fine-looking man'.
Captain Smith's claim to fame is for his part in a bloody clash with Te Kooti's men when he was a young cavalry officer serving as a 'Cornet', the most junior officer rank of the day.
He was in command of a unit ambushed on June 7, 1869, at a deserted Māori settlement at Ōpepe, on the shores of Lake Taupō.
Colonel St John had set out with an escort of 14 men to select locations for the construction of redoubts and depots.
After reaching Ōpepe, the abandoned kāinga of the chief Tahau overlooking Lake Taupō, the colonel decided it was a good location for a fort.
St John left his men there and moved on without instructing the men to mount a guard.
He said: 'You're as safe here as in the centre of London, safe as a church.'
Not expecting any trouble, they piled their rifles and occupied three whare.
The men shot some pigeons, killed some wandering sheep and washed their clothes. In the afternoon, they rested with their saddles and equipment stowed in a separate hut.
Rain was falling, but one soldier, George Creswell, set off to look for a stray horse and returned later wet through. He took all his clothes off to dry them.
Little did they know that an advance guard of Te Kooti's warriors, led by Te Rangi Tahau, was close by as they moved from Poverty Bay to the King Country.
The Find a Grave Website says Captain Angus Smith lies in front of these two graves in Ōpōtiki Cemetery.
Some say this group had been summoned by a spy among the colonials who had earlier lit mysterious signal fires.
In any case, the 14 cavalrymen were suddenly surprised.
Three Māori entered the camp armed with rifles. Not one of the troopers was armed, and when they tried to flee, the Māori opened fire.
Creswell later said: 'There were a great many shots. I only had time for a hasty glance about me when I realised we were trapped. The place was full of Māori.'
Stark naked, he made a run for it, managing to escape along with his comrade George Stevenson.
Thinking they were the only two survivors, they made the 55km trek to Fort Galatea.
Major John Roberts.
The raiders killed nine members of the attachment outright, shooting down several who made a run for the bush.
The marauding Māori collected 14 carbines, 14 revolvers, 14 swords, 14 saddles, 13 horses and 280 rounds of ammunition.
This kit helped Te Kooti equip his 200 cavalrymen as they made their way to the King Country.
A report in the Taranaki Herald said Captain Smith searched for the tracks of Colonel St John, but the rebels caught him on the road.
The rebels stripped off his clothes and medals. They tied him to a tree and abandoned him to a slow death from thirst and starvation.
Captain Smith remained there four days before managing to release himself, then headed north-south-west towards Fort Galatea.
One report says he crawled to a stream and managed to drink on the seventh day, arriving at the fort with frostbite 10 days after the ambush.
Did Smith deserve his medal?
An account of the incident in the Taranaki Herald describes how the New Zealand Cross was bestowed on Angus Smith for bravery and endurance.
Following his remarkable escape, the soldier was also promoted to Captain. The Imperial Government reissued the Crimean and Turkish medals Te Kooti's men stole from him.
However, recriminations were swift.
While the writer of the Taranaki Herald account gushed that Captain Smith was 'the beau ideal of an old cavalry officer, and personally was a fine-looking man', Captain Smith's fellow NZ Cross recipients saw things differently.
The panel that opposed Captain Smith getting the NZ Cross included three who could perhaps be described as 'Land Wars heavyweights'.
Major John Roberts, Captain Gilbert Mair and Captain George Preece were awarded their New Zealand Cross medals for bravery in combat. Interestingly, Captains Preece and Mair had considerable expertise in Māori language and culture.
Both formed close relationships with Te Arawa, whose warriors they led in many skirmishes with Te Kooti's men.
Major Roberts was active in the Taranaki wars under Gustavus von Tempsky, ahead of moving to Poverty Bay to confront Te Kooti, though he eventually handed pursuit of the rebel chief over to Mair and Preece.
Captain George Preece.
All three made it clear that, in their view, handing a NZ Cross to Captain Smith was a gross misuse of an honour reserved for valour, pointing out that he would normally expect to be court-martialled for dereliction of duty in failing to post sentries.
As well as the loss of life in the colonial personnel at Ōpepe, Te Kooti's reward from the massacre was the trove of arms and ammunition he captured there.
These were later used during his rampage across the North Island.
Historians have argued over this, concluding that while Captain Smith did deserve to be censured, the bulk of the culpability had to lie with Colonel St John, who had known Te Kooti intended to march to Taupō.
Though Captain Smith's medal was primarily for endurance rather than valour, none of his critics accused him of being a coward.
Ahead of the fateful incident at Ōpepe, Captain Smith, who died in 1902, saw combat at Maukau, Te Ranga and Waireka.
Before coming to New Zealand, he had served with the 93rd (Sutherland Highlanders) Regiment in the Crimean War. These soldiers were legendary.
At the Battle of Balaclava in 1854, they formed the famous 'Thin Red Line', repelling a Russian cavalry charge with a formation of soldiers just two-deep, instead of the required four-deep formation.
Captain Gilbert Mair.
Colonel St John's career seemed to have survived his terrible advice to the soldiers at Ōpepe, because he turns up in a later newspaper report being praised by the writer for his fairness in overseeing balloting of land to soldiers after the wars.
Years later in Ōpōtiki, George Creswell was talking to Māori who said: 'We could have got you that day George, when you were looking for your horse, but we didn't want to alarm your camp.'
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NZ Herald
19 hours ago
- NZ Herald
256-year-old relic of European contact with NZ rediscovered in RNZ podcast
Brendan Wade treasure hunting. Photo / Ellie Callahan The anchors of the Saint Jean Baptiste The anchor, estimated at 4.1m long, and weighing more than a tonne, once belonged to the French ship Saint Jean Baptiste, which arrived off the coast of Doubtless Bay in 1769 – around the same time Captain James Cook was making his first voyage to New Zealand. The ship's crew were dropping dead of scurvy, and its commander, Captain Jean-Francois Marie de Surville, had been forced to make landfall in Aotearoa New Zealand. The crew were nursed back to health by members of Ngāti Kahu living near the northern edge of Doubtless Bay. Relations between tangata whenua and the new arrivals were initially peaceful. However, that changed when one of the ship's small boats was lost in a storm and washed up on shore. It was claimed by local Māori as a gift from Tangaroa. De Surville retaliated to what he interpreted as theft by setting fire to a nearby kāinga, and seizing two carved waka. He also kidnapped a local rangatira named Ranginui, who was taken away in chains, and subsequently died of thirst and scurvy aboard the Saint Jean Baptiste. The storm which precipitated these events also claimed three of the Saint Jean Baptiste's large iron anchors. The ship's logs capture in harrowing detail how the ship was blown 'within musket shot' of the cliffs of the Karikari Peninsula after the cable securing the ship to its anchor snapped. Two other anchors were deployed, but failed to find purchase on the sandy bottom of the bay. De Surville gave orders to cut the two remaining anchors loose in an effort to save the ship. His second in command, Guilliam Labe, recorded in his journal that 'the vessel stayed for quite a long time without answering to her rudder and we stared death in the face, seeing rocks along the length of the ship fit to make your hair stand on end'. Thanks to an extraordinary piece of seamanship, the vessel was saved, but the three anchors were lost. Kelly Tarlton's final treasure hunt The three anchors remained at the bottom of the ocean for more than 200 years until the first was discovered by famous marine treasure hunter (and aquarium founder) Kelly Tarlton in 1974. It was retrieved from the bottom of the ocean and now hangs above the foyer at Te Papa museum. The second anchor was found later that year by Northland diver Mike Bearsley and installed at Te Ahu Museum in Kaitāia. The third anchor was located in 1982 by a team including Kelly Tarlton, his daughter Nicole Tarlton, Vietnamese diver Hung Nguyen and Kelly's brother-in-law Peter Pettigrew. Kelly Tarlton recorded the location of the anchor, but in the 40 years since his papers were lost and despite many experienced divers looking for it, nobody had managed to relocate it. In the process of making his podcast, Kelly Tarlton's Final Treasure Hunt, host Hamish Williams explored the possibility the anchor might have been illicitly salvaged, and made the centrepiece of a music festival at Te Arai called 'Shipwrecked'. However, a later expedition to Doubtless Bay with marine engineer Brendan Wade, two of Kelly's former treasure hunting companions, Keith Gordon and Dave Moran, as well as local diver Whetu Rutene (Ngāti Kahu) suggested the anchor was still at the bottom of the ocean. The team used a magnetometer to search the bay, and detected a large magnetic anomaly on the seabed. However, underwater searches of the location were unsuccessful, raising the possibility that the anchor may have been buried by sediment, or that the equipment was defective. Then, just days before the final episode of the podcast was released, there was a new development. Hamish and Fiona Tarlton with flowers for Kelly in December 2020. Photo / Hamilton William The lost coordinates Kelly Tarlton had filed the detailed notes of his discovery of the anchor at his Museum of Shipwrecks, and these files were later sold at auction when the museum closed in the early 2000s. Auction records suggested the files had been sold to Kelly's brother-in-law Peter Pettigrew, but Pettigrew had no recollection of purchasing them, and insisted the records must be mistaken. However, just days before the podcast was launched, Pettigrew discovered the file buried at the back of a storage unit. '[It was] the very last carton at the very back of the lock up on the ground level, the lowest rung of all was 'item 65, Kelly's Archives',' Pettigrew explained. But finding the notes turned out to be just the first step. Marine engineer Brendan Wade, partner to Ellie Callahan – one of the podcast's producers – had become heavily involved in the search for the anchor, lending both his expertise and his equipment, including his boat, a remotely operated underwater vehicle, and a sophisticated sonar-scanning array to the endeavour. Wade recalled the moment he received the email with Kelly's long-lost notes. 'I thought 'f***ing eureka we've got it!'' But that enthusiasm was short-lived. It turned out that Kelly's notes did not include precise coordinates. Instead, they had drawings and readings taken using a sextant, an old-fashioned navigational tool used to estimate the location of a ship at sea by referencing landmarks on shore against the position of the sun. Converting sextant readings into GPS coordinates is not a simple task. Luckily, Wade was at sea working on a survey ship at the time and was able to lean on the expertise of his colleagues. 'There's a bit of clever maths involved to do this, but the boys very graciously taught me,' he explained. To Wade's surprise, the co-ordinates he calculated didn't match the location of the magnetometer signal found in the previous expedition. He was initially sceptical that Kelly Tarlton had accurately recorded his position. 'I actually kinda thought I just want[ed] to go up and disprove this, because it doesn't match anything else. We've got this [magnetometer signal], that's where the anchor is.' Brendan Wade with the second de Surville anchor at Te Ahu Museum in Kaitaia. Photo / Ellie Callahan The rediscovery Braving wild weather which brought severe flooding to parts of the country last week, Wade motored out to the co-ordinates with his ROV – invoking the spirit of Kelly Tarlton along the way. 'I had a chat to Kelly on the way out there and said 'come on mate, you've to to help me out here!'' Wade remembered. After several attempts were foiled by heavy swell, Wade finally managed to get his ROV into the water, and was astonished by what he found. 'Out of the gloom was this massive ring, and you kind of look at it and you think, oh, maybe that, Could that be natural? No, it's not natural … it turned out to be the ring on the shank of the anchor. And then as I saw further down, you could start seeing the shank of the anchor laying down on the seabed, and then out of the gloom in this massive fluke, just sticking vertically up.' Wade says the anchor is sitting at a depth of approximately 28m, and one of its flukes is jammed so firmly in the seabed that the main shaft of the anchor is actually suspended horizontally just above the seafloor. The anchor is encrusted with marine life including large sponges, and appears to be home to a single Leatherjacket, which Wade's two children have dubbed 'the guardian fish'. Heritage New Zealand's has confirmed the authenticity of Wade's find saying in a statement: 'By the description of the location and its physical shape and scale it is almost certainly the third anchor associated with de Surville and his ship the St Jean Baptiste. As such, the anchor is one of the oldest relics of early European contact with New Zealand.' Heritage New Zealand have recommended the site remain undisturbed until tangata whenua have been consulted, and the area can be assessed by a professional archaeologist. As for what the late Kelly Tarlton would have made of the rediscovery of his anchor 43 years later, his daughter Fiona laughed and said he would have said 'it bloody took you long enough!'. -RNZ


NZ Herald
2 days ago
- NZ Herald
New Zealand Wars: Unmarked grave of NZ Cross winner Captain Angus Smith in Ōpōtiki prompts call for memorial
What we do know is that Captain Smith won one of just 23 New Zealand Crosses awarded between 1856 and 1899, at which time New Zealand's top military medal was replaced by the Victoria Cross. These medals went to Māori and Pākehā who served in the New Zealand colonial forces during the New Zealand Wars, making the award one of the rarest military honours in the world. Captain Smith's medal is on display in the National Museum of Scotland. Nicol has lobbied for many years to have the names of war heroes from the East Coast etched on to war memorials and gravestones, his efforts gaining recognition for servicemen from World Wars I and II, Vietnam and Malaysia. 'To me, it is unacceptable that Smith, the first from this area to win the country's highest major military award at the time, does not have a marker on his grave,' he said. 'We have produced more war heroes from this part of the North Island than any other place in New Zealand – including Victoria Cross, George Cross and Distinguished Service Decoration winners. 'We should look after every one of them.' A Taranaki Herald description of Angus Smith said he was 'the beau ideal of an old cavalry officer, and personally was a fine-looking man'. Captain Smith's claim to fame is for his part in a bloody clash with Te Kooti's men when he was a young cavalry officer serving as a 'Cornet', the most junior officer rank of the day. He was in command of a unit ambushed on June 7, 1869, at a deserted Māori settlement at Ōpepe, on the shores of Lake Taupō. Colonel St John had set out with an escort of 14 men to select locations for the construction of redoubts and depots. After reaching Ōpepe, the abandoned kāinga of the chief Tahau overlooking Lake Taupō, the colonel decided it was a good location for a fort. St John left his men there and moved on without instructing the men to mount a guard. He said: 'You're as safe here as in the centre of London, safe as a church.' Not expecting any trouble, they piled their rifles and occupied three whare. The men shot some pigeons, killed some wandering sheep and washed their clothes. In the afternoon, they rested with their saddles and equipment stowed in a separate hut. Rain was falling, but one soldier, George Creswell, set off to look for a stray horse and returned later wet through. He took all his clothes off to dry them. Little did they know that an advance guard of Te Kooti's warriors, led by Te Rangi Tahau, was close by as they moved from Poverty Bay to the King Country. The Find a Grave Website says Captain Angus Smith lies in front of these two graves in Ōpōtiki Cemetery. Some say this group had been summoned by a spy among the colonials who had earlier lit mysterious signal fires. In any case, the 14 cavalrymen were suddenly surprised. Three Māori entered the camp armed with rifles. Not one of the troopers was armed, and when they tried to flee, the Māori opened fire. Creswell later said: 'There were a great many shots. I only had time for a hasty glance about me when I realised we were trapped. The place was full of Māori.' Stark naked, he made a run for it, managing to escape along with his comrade George Stevenson. Thinking they were the only two survivors, they made the 55km trek to Fort Galatea. Major John Roberts. The raiders killed nine members of the attachment outright, shooting down several who made a run for the bush. The marauding Māori collected 14 carbines, 14 revolvers, 14 swords, 14 saddles, 13 horses and 280 rounds of ammunition. This kit helped Te Kooti equip his 200 cavalrymen as they made their way to the King Country. A report in the Taranaki Herald said Captain Smith searched for the tracks of Colonel St John, but the rebels caught him on the road. The rebels stripped off his clothes and medals. They tied him to a tree and abandoned him to a slow death from thirst and starvation. Captain Smith remained there four days before managing to release himself, then headed north-south-west towards Fort Galatea. One report says he crawled to a stream and managed to drink on the seventh day, arriving at the fort with frostbite 10 days after the ambush. Did Smith deserve his medal? An account of the incident in the Taranaki Herald describes how the New Zealand Cross was bestowed on Angus Smith for bravery and endurance. Following his remarkable escape, the soldier was also promoted to Captain. The Imperial Government reissued the Crimean and Turkish medals Te Kooti's men stole from him. However, recriminations were swift. While the writer of the Taranaki Herald account gushed that Captain Smith was 'the beau ideal of an old cavalry officer, and personally was a fine-looking man', Captain Smith's fellow NZ Cross recipients saw things differently. The panel that opposed Captain Smith getting the NZ Cross included three who could perhaps be described as 'Land Wars heavyweights'. Major John Roberts, Captain Gilbert Mair and Captain George Preece were awarded their New Zealand Cross medals for bravery in combat. Interestingly, Captains Preece and Mair had considerable expertise in Māori language and culture. Both formed close relationships with Te Arawa, whose warriors they led in many skirmishes with Te Kooti's men. Major Roberts was active in the Taranaki wars under Gustavus von Tempsky, ahead of moving to Poverty Bay to confront Te Kooti, though he eventually handed pursuit of the rebel chief over to Mair and Preece. Captain George Preece. All three made it clear that, in their view, handing a NZ Cross to Captain Smith was a gross misuse of an honour reserved for valour, pointing out that he would normally expect to be court-martialled for dereliction of duty in failing to post sentries. As well as the loss of life in the colonial personnel at Ōpepe, Te Kooti's reward from the massacre was the trove of arms and ammunition he captured there. These were later used during his rampage across the North Island. Historians have argued over this, concluding that while Captain Smith did deserve to be censured, the bulk of the culpability had to lie with Colonel St John, who had known Te Kooti intended to march to Taupō. Though Captain Smith's medal was primarily for endurance rather than valour, none of his critics accused him of being a coward. Ahead of the fateful incident at Ōpepe, Captain Smith, who died in 1902, saw combat at Maukau, Te Ranga and Waireka. Before coming to New Zealand, he had served with the 93rd (Sutherland Highlanders) Regiment in the Crimean War. These soldiers were legendary. At the Battle of Balaclava in 1854, they formed the famous 'Thin Red Line', repelling a Russian cavalry charge with a formation of soldiers just two-deep, instead of the required four-deep formation. Captain Gilbert Mair. Colonel St John's career seemed to have survived his terrible advice to the soldiers at Ōpepe, because he turns up in a later newspaper report being praised by the writer for his fairness in overseeing balloting of land to soldiers after the wars. Years later in Ōpōtiki, George Creswell was talking to Māori who said: 'We could have got you that day George, when you were looking for your horse, but we didn't want to alarm your camp.'


Newsroom
2 days ago
- Newsroom
Book of the Week: When white liberalism gets fed up with the oppressed
Racism is a topic we talk about a lot in our house. Covid brought two extra mouths to our dinner table. Holly, whose whakapapa includes Ngāti Raukawa ki te Tonga, then 19, joined us because science has yet to find a way to keep two 19 year olds in love apart, no matter how serious the pandemic. And Tanaka, then 12, joined because of my friendship with her mother. Tanaka was born here and has a Zimbabwean mother and a New Zealand father. As she says of her experiences as a Black girl in Aotearoa, 'The circle of people who connect with my personal cultural experience is very small, yet very kind and always welcoming. But being a Black person in Aotearoa is tough. Living as a Black person, I've been set apart from other children my age, marked as different.' Our family was fortunate to be able to welcome these lovely rangitahi, who brought with them stories and histories quite different from our own – stories and histories defined by the experience of racism in Aotearoa New Zealand. Tanaka explains, 'Every school, shop and community I walked into has treated me as a Black person. Stares and sly comments from older and whiter strangers asking about my roots, teachers questioning my academic abilities. That has been my experience of Aotearoa.' As an American from Tennessee, welcoming a Black New Zealander and a Māori teen into my home was a delight and chance to grow our whānau and deepen our connections with others here in our chosen home. But it also meant we needed to expand our vocabulary and our understanding of what life here was like for the young people who joined our family. And being young people, they too needed to learn the words to talk about their experiences and how those experiences are shaped by larger structures, history, and forces that were operating long before they were even born. In Tanaka's words, 'Feeling alone in my culture is something I struggled with from a very young age. I didn't know how to learn about what I was experiencing. I knew it affected others, but didn't know much more than that. I did know being Black was dangerous. For a long time I thought the fear I felt walking down the street was in my head. But I saw other Black, Pacifica and Māori girls having the same experiences. It wasn't until later that I came to understand that we were experiencing something systemic. It was racism. And it left me feeling excluded and angry.' Racism hurts and it kills. An animating force for so much of our politics, racism and love of money combine to immiserate far too many here in Aotearoa and around the world, even as we still struggle to find words and stories to talk about it. A new collection of essays, Oceans Between Us: Pacific Peoples and Racism in Aotearoa offers a dissection of racism and is just the kind of book whānau like mine need. Its editor, Serena Naepi, writes, 'Racism. There, we said it. You can let your shoulders drop now that you know we will say the word and not sidestep it to protect people's comfort. Or, you can raise your shoulders in preparation for tension as you realise that this book will not talk about unconscious bias or other terms that enable us to excuse ourselves from our own complicity in, inaction on, or upholding of racist structures.' Thirteen Pacific scholars weave together a truth about how structural racial oppression organises our society and how we can do the work of remaking it. The book combines hard facts with glimpses of the human toll behind those facts, and allows an understanding of how racism defines the experiences of Pacific Islanders in Aotearoa. There are essays on history, economics, climate, health and other issues. Writing on migration policy, Evalesi Tu'inukuafe details the unfairness of the Recognised Seasonal Employer scheme, which appears designed, intentionally or not, to entrap Pacific Islanders in exploitative labour relationships. Generously sharing his own family history of migration and solidarity during the era of the Dawn Raids, Tu'inukuafe uses storytelling to elaborate on what might otherwise feel dry and abstract. He tells us of his own whānau, 'My uncle Karl and aunty Naima helped many students, family members, and friends during the Dawn Raids, risking not only their own their safety, but also the safety of their three children so that others could have a chance to start a new life in New Zealand.' Barbara-Luhia Graham focuses on Section 127 of the Sentencing Act 2002. With searing clarity, she details the life of 'Fetu', a fictional stand-in, bringing readers into the life of a young Pacifica man entangled in the criminal justice system. 'Fetu's story of suffering,' she writes, 'starts before he was born, with the colonial powers' expansion in the Pacific Islands from the late 1700s'. From here we follow Fetu and his whānau as they struggle against systems that put barriers and challenges in front of them at every turn. Intertwined with explanations about how Pacific Islanders fare under New Zealand's immigration and criminal justice systems, she leaves it to readers to choose a future for Fetu, a literary choice that invites readers to think carefully and offers brilliant opportunities for classroom use in both secondary and tertiary settings. In his essay on health, Caleb Marsters makes a compelling case for a full transformation in our health systems and asks where the responsibility for that change should lie. He writes, 'I fear that the drain of structural racism becomes twofold for Pacific communities, in that the same communities impacted by these structural disparities will also bear the brunt of attempting to solve these issues … What we have to do, if we are to get real about addressing structural racism, is to ensure that resources and opportunities, or the social determinants of health, are shared in an equitable way so that Pacific and other marginalised communities are able to live in a country that values their cultures, worldviews, and ways of knowing and being just as much as European Pākekā cultures, worldviews, and ways of knowing and being.' At a time when privatisation and service cuts are dominating our political imaginations, Marsters offers a refreshing alternative vision. Chelsea Naepi brings in the voice of youth and a focus on the future in the concluding chapter. She calls out the current Government for their dismantling of policies that served to move us closer to a world less based in racism, policies that benefited everyone including Smokefree Aotearoa and Fair Pay Agreements. Naepi writes with the full power and urgency of youth, crafting a vision of an Aotearoa where the values of 'love, empathy (mafana or aroha), relationality (fakatauiaga or whakawhanaungatanga), and reciprocity (fakatautonu or utu),' are used as 'tools' to realise a positive vision for Aotearoa's future. At the same time she calls out white liberalism: 'The removal of these policies confirms that movements of anti-racism and equality can quickly come to a halt once White liberalism becomes fed up with the demands of the oppressed.' There is always a risk with a book like this that those not from Pacific communities will overlook it and consider it not for them. But this book is for all of us in Aotearoa. I discussed it with Tanaka and she said, 'I know this book can change people. Going into reading this with an open mind and an open heart can help to bring about a transformation in our understanding of racism in Aotearoa. I found solace and support in the stories shared. Books like this are a vital part of the journey towards an Aotearoa where all people are welcomed.' The political winds of the moment are blowing us backwards in frightening ways. To right our collective ship, we need the voices and wisdom of the contributors to this book – and we need scholars like these to help us all to find the courage to talk about racism and to help our rangitahi learn the words and the facts they need to name the old evil. The fight is all of ours and, as this book reminds us, the moment to redouble our efforts is now. Oceans Between Us: Pacific Peoples and Racism in Aotearoa edited by Sereana Naepi (Auckland University Press, $39.99) is available in bookstores nationwide.